You can’t blame us for trying. This past Sunday it was a beautiful fall afternoon, and my husband and I took the opportunity to go for a walk with our son. After several blocks and dozens of restaurants, the urge hit me.
“Want to do something crazy and completely out of character?”, I asked.
It was as if he could read my mind.
“You want to get a drink?”
This is why I married this man.
It was 4pm, and the idea of a Bloody Mary was tantalizing. We hadn’t had a drink in daylight hours in years. Literally years. And we certainly hadn’t spontaneously stopped into a restaurant in just as long. Plus we had our toddler with us. Who were we? This was insane. But we were going to do it, damnit.
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