Week night dates are something we don’t really do. As two tired people who enjoy each other’s company at home after a day of work, a typical week night looks like this: straighten the house, eat dinner, check off random items on to-do list, watch TV, read in bed. We are pretty exciting people.
But every once in a while, we like to pretend we are caught up on everything during the week: we put all our adult-burdens aside and become carefree teenagers. And by that I simply mean we make popcorn and watch a movie.
Tonight is that night. Poor Eric has been laid up for the past couple of days with a damaged lower back. He pulled a bunch of muscles and stuff (doctor’s terms) and has been forced to lie down flat until it gets better (doctors appointments in between). So, the living room has been turned into a hospital of sorts and I am doing a great job of overlooking the mess, and focusing on helping Eric do things he cannot do on his own–like pick up things off of the ground.
Furthermore, while Eric has been couch-ridden, he has simultaneously become addicted to the show Sons of Anarchy on Netflix. Apparently, so I’m told, this is a show about a motorcycle gang in California. From what I have gathered from the few glimpses I allow myself at the TV, this show is really all about putting people in trunks, blood, lots of hospital visits, feuds settled with weaponry and an Irish accent here and there. I’ll stick with the Mindy Project, thanks.
Needless to say, it’s been a real cheery place around here.
In an effort to combat pending depression and boredom, we are pretending it is date night and that all is well and most thrillingly: I am bringing salted caramel brownies into existence for the occasion (thank you, Joanna!). I hope everyone is having a lovely Wednesday evening.
On that note…Do you have any movie/documentary recommendations from Netflix (streaming only)? We would love to hear.
(I just realized this is Wednesday and thus, this should be a “midweek musings” post…oops. Next week…)
P.S. If you look at the pictures above and imagine my hand is the swollen hand of another person grabbing my face, you might get an extra element of “fun” you were not expecting from this helpful DIY post.
P.P.S. At what age does it become inappropriate to take self-photos on your laptop and put them on the internet?