Friday night’s typical fare is take-out. Usually Chinese or Japanese food and whatever Sci-Fi the boys can get their hands on. We set up shop on our comfy couch for the evening. I don’t mind, really. I won’t eat their food or watch their shows, but I still hang out—snuggled into what has become a Friday night tradition.

But tonight is an exception. One of Boy Wonder’s friends asked him to dinner and we gleefully said “Yes!” IZ and I wasted no time formulating a plan for our evening alone. He’d make fresh pesto and salad and warm crusty bread; I’d head to the store for a buttery bottle of wine. I set our table with a real table cloth, lit a few candles, put on my favorite opera on the stereo. I even broke out never been used vintage Vera napkins… I didn’t know why I’d been saving them, until now. Dinner for two seemed like the perfect reason.

We dined and laughed and talked about adult things. He’s an amazing cook and conversationalist. I snapped his photo in the candlelight and looking through the lens realized once again how blessed I am. He is and will always be my soul mate.

And then Boy Wonder came bounding in with tales of his own dinner. How much fun he had. What he ate. Who said what. Can he do it again?

“Yes” we gleefully agreed.