Here’s a conversation between Tate and I that will most likely never happen:
Tate: “Hey babe! I was just thinking that since the kids are at school today, hows about you meet me for lunch today? Just the two of us.” (Tate would never actually say “hows about,” but I added it for a little flair.)
Me: “Really??!! Just the two of us? For lunch? I can’t believe you asked me!! YES! YES, I’ll meet you for lunch today, I’d really love that!”
I know that if I want this to happen, then I’m going to need to ask Tate specifically if he would kindly invite me to have lunch with him. It’s the fact that I need to directly ask this very specific request that just makes me kind of sigh heavily and roll my eyes. It would be nice if he understood me a little better.
Me: “I sure have been hungry for Mexican. Too bad you usually eat Mexican food during the week and don’t feel like having it when we go out.”
To me, this sounds like, “Honey, please invite me out for Mexican food. The kids are in school and we could have our very own date! In the middle of the day! How cool is that?!”
I’m not a psychologist or reader of men, but I suspect that when I mention my Mexican food craving to Tate he hears, “My wife is hungry for Mexican food. I am going to take off my socks now.”
Last night, Tate told me he had tried the new Mexican place for lunch. (This is where I sigh heavily and roll my eyes.) Against my stubborn instincts, I said to Tate, “Maybe some time you could invite me to have lunch, you know, since the kids are in school.” Why must I have to be so transparent???
The kids are in school tomorrow and we’ll see if Tate interpreted my sentence to mean, “Maybe I should call my wife and invite her to have lunch today.”
He’ll get bonus points if he invites me out to lunch AND it’s JUST THE TWO OF US. Double bonus points if he takes me out for Mexican even though he had already had Mexican this week.
He didn’t invite me to lunch. Originally, at lunch time, I felt a little dejected. I mean, why doesn’t he read my freaking blog and why didn’t any of his FRIENDS WHO READ MY BLOG, tell him. (Hi Tate’s friends!! I see you with my magic internetty powers.)
When Tate got home last night he told me that he had had an epiphany.
“Oh really, Tate,” I said. “What was your epiphany.”
“Well, since the kids are in school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we should go out sometime for lunch. Mexican?”
Epiphany, my butt. I’ll take it, though. And thank you to whomever let him in on my wish. I think this is a true testament to the power of social media.