My weekend started out at a company sponsored event at a wine tasting room in Chicago, The Tasting Room. I'm not a social animal, so it was good that DearWife had jumped on the train and joined me.

We mutually agreed after my third glass of...of..something red, that she would drive home. The place was great. I'm not sure what any of the food was, because it was all dressed up like it was going to the prom. I know there was salmon, salad (with gorgonzola, walnuts and raspberry vinaigrette - wife told me that), chicken loaf (not doing it justice here), and a bunch of other stuff. After a while, they walked around with meat h'ors d'eurves (the spell checker choked on that one). The first was some kind of steak on a stick. It was awesome. So good that even white-meat-only wife was impressed. "What do you call that" I asked the waitress.

"What? The meat stick?"

As the evening wore on, we chatted away with the rest of the company. I tried to mingle as best I could. I find that there is a precise mathematical formula to follow for my social ability. Distance from wife (and center of social confidence) = drinks squared. So, as I had to remain somewhat professional, I ended up staying close to wife.

About 8:00 we noticed that it had started to snow. a. whole. freaking. lot. By 9:30, it was time to push off. We dropped some co-workers off, and set out on the highway. Within a couple hours, a foot of snow fell. On the way home, I was struck by how incredible the snow looked on all the trees. Right about then was when DearWife gasped when a semi passed us doing 50 on the left.

There was one very freaky moment when we suddenly found ourselves the only car going north on the tollway. There were literally hundreds of cars going south. But zero going our way. It was like a scene from a disaster movie when everyone was escaping the city, and the band of ragtag heroes was going in to save the son\daughter who was most likely estranged to the gruff old main character.

Anyway, we made it home fine. Oddly enough, it didn't take any longer than my regular commute. It must be DearWife's incredible driving skills.

My parents had been babysitting for us, and decided to stay over until Sunday. Given that we don't get out much (at all really), and I was tired anyway, I decided to punt my poker game that night. We agreed to go to a movie.

Then the negotiations began. The negotiations started like this:

Me: "I don't want to see Brokeback Mountain at all. Ever. Pass."
DW: "I don't want to see Underworld: Evolution. Ever. At all. Pass"

But I was determined, after my recent Gilmore Girls firing, and refusal to watch The Constant Gardener. So, eventually, we compromised and decided to go to Underworld Saturday, and Brokeback next week.

We went to dinner, and were talking about people we know that have a son they think might be 'slacking.' The kid is 8, is on a traveling soccer team (his second year on the team), gets all As and Bs, and is in year three of piano lessons. I start saying how I don't want our kids to be programmed. They are kids, let them be stupid for their first 4 years. They have 17 years of school, let them play for 4 years.

I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have re-entered the pre-school debate. At some point, Wife said "Well, our kids will be taking piano lessons."

"Sure, but not at 3."

"Yes, at 3."
We went back and forth, and honestly I wasn't even sure my vehement objections made sense to even me. So I said "let's just not talk about it. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about." That's probably slanted in my direction. I could have said something along the lines of "what are you talking about, there's no way I will ever allow our children to touch a piano ever." I don't honestly know.

Anyway, the discussion didn't stop. "I have taken child development classes." She tried using logic. Against me. Before the movie started, our discussion had entered the "Maybe I should just go see Brokeback right now."

I was so upset that I didn't even think about how it would have gotten me out of seeing that godawful movie next week. She didn't end up there, so I'm still on the hook.

Right before the movie starts, wife gives the the "I forgive you, you moron" punch in the arm. Then the movie starts. About 30 seconds in, when the 4rth head is severed between the mouth and eyes, I realize that there's no hope of getting out of Brokeback Mountain.

I wonder if it would be ok if I brought a book and a book light?


Dear Wife said...

BTW it's not "piano lessons," it's just the next step of the music classes we have been taking since he was 8 months old. In the next class the teacher uses musical verbage and the kids play with keyboards. And, if he doesn't like it, we go on to do something else.

AND, being designated driver during the snow storm Friday PLUS Underworld on Saturday EQUALS Brokeback Mountain, the rest of the Gilmore Girls season, and I get to pick the next movie after Brokeback. Even though it won't be until spring 2007. But, still...

The Kept Woman said...

I think Dear Wife should start a blog to give her side of all your posts. That would be an interesting idea. As far as it goes for still being on the hook, no I wouldn't bring a book with you.

Doesn't bode well for the activity after the movie if ya catch my drift (wink, wink, nod, nod).

Khyle said...

For the record, I've been bugging her to keep a blog. And I also gave her the opportunity to guest post here on this specific issue. She also proofed this post.

Oh, and I don't think I'm going to be in the mood for that kind of activity after that sort of movie. Call me a cro-magnon if you must.