I'm remembering October 28, eighteen years ago - another blind date, set up by a kindhearted friend. A 6 pm date. A one hour date, in the light of day, one coffee. No alcohol, no dinner, no obligations, little awkwardness.
My littles were locked in, my eleven year old delegated to the role of authoritarian, not only over her younger brothers, but also the one who was appointed to make the call if a call needed to be made - after all, my cell phone contract only provided 20 minutes of service per month. I made it clear that they would not call about opening the marshmallows or changing the channel. We ran hard all day outside - we changed to our storm windows on that Saturday and made our usual park pilgrimage - and then they were fed and I hit start on a movie, kissed their heads, locked the door, and headed to North Liberty to meet a guy from Cedar Rapids.
They didn't call, and barely noticed that I had been gone, that I had met a "friend", that I danced back home with new ideas and opinions about my worthiness, and about our future.