|Red Rock Canyon, Nevada|
It happened overnight. The streets...we ran them. The nights...we stalked them. In fact my birthday weekend was just another stop on the grown express train.
The dress...Flintstones chic. The hair...ponytailed for the desert heat. The bracelets, the shoes, the bag all picked weeks in advance for this one night where the clock struck 12 and I would enter a new decade of awesome!
My most beloved accessory got us in Poetry Night Club's V.I.P where I planned to dance & party my new age away.
No such luck. The hubby -- after the preparations to get there, after the early afternoon scouting of the club in the middle of Caesar's Palace, after getting dressed, after the valuables were secured in the safe, after valeting the rental, after buying the $6 bottled waters -- looks at me (forehead shining from too many of my glossy kisses) & says, "Let me know when you're ready."
I couldn't even respond.
But at least when history is written about the couple who shuts down their kitchen promptly at 8pm regardless of who's visiting, who thinks watching a movie late on a Saturday night is wild & crazy, and who took a break walking from a show to the car recently because their new shoes wouldn't let them be great it will have a definitive starting point -- that night in Vegas!
No, there was no debauchery. There were no friends lost or tigers roaming hotel suites. No one gambled away the kids
|Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas|
Thanks again to the lovely Charli of ManWifeandDog.com for inspiring this post with last week's love homework assignment -- Take a visual trip down memory lane.
Oh & the hubby wants everyone to know that he's not an old man. He just "hates crowds" and that's different.