I have a confession to make, one that the "date your spouse" people might judge me for: Eric and I don't really go on dates anymore.

When we were freshly married we didn't make it a priority because, after all, every day is like a date when it's just the two of you. 🙂 Then when the first baby came along, I hated to leave him anywhere, plus it just plain involved more planning, plus we weren't already in the dating groove. And when the second baby came along, not much had changed. I still hated to leave the boys anywhere, and it still involved more planning, and we were even less in the dating groove.

So the few times we find ourselves out and about alone are usually out of necessity, and out of necessity usually has unpleasant connotations in our case. Cleaning church. Going to the dentist. Things you can't exactly have two little people along for.

Today it was going to the dentist. Eric got us both in for cleanings at the same time, so we left the boys with his mom and headed off to Canby.

"I hope we don't have to do anything horrendous to get in at the dentist," Eric said.

"Well, they can't very well make us wear a mask," I laughed.

There was a sign on the door when we arrived. Wear a mask inside. If we didn't have one, they would happily provide one.

We didn't. And they did.Over three months into the Covid-19 crisis, and it was the first time we'd donned masks. It was definitely a strange feeling, especially with all the news now about how masks don't actually protect anyone against the virus, about how overblown the whole thing has been, about this expert and that changing their opinions left and right, about how counties and countries and states are opening up with little to no bad relapses. Of all the times to be requiring masks . . .

Anyway. We put them on, had our blood pressure checked, our temperatures taken, and some other little device attached to our finger for some reason or other. We signed a coronavirus-related paper and were finally allowed to get our teeth cleaned.

Of course the masks had to come back off. Then they had to go back on. It felt a little ridiculous.

We took them off as soon as we got outside, but we wanted to stop at The White Rabbit Bakery on our way home, and lo and behold, on their door was a sign saying that masks were required inside. Three months of no masks, and suddenly we had to wear them at two different places on the same day.

Luckily we'd only discarded our dentist ones, not disposed of them. On they went, and in we went.

If you want/need gluten-free baking, The White Rabbit Bakery is your place to go. We got a scrumptious chocolate peanut butter cupcake for me, a huge cinnamon roll for Eric, and a pumpkin cupcake as a thank-you-for-watching-our-little-hooligans for Eric's mom.

While we were in there, a lady who didn't have a mask came to the door. She improvised by pulling her jacket up over her nose and was constantly trying to keep it there while ordering her coffee.

This wasn't supposed to be a post about masks though, and I've been purposefully keeping my mouth shut about coronavirus, so how about we get back to the fact that we don't go on dates instead.

Before we ever got to the bakery, we stopped at a little park just on the edge of Canby and walked down to the water. It was marvelous. We were only there for about five minutes, and we weren't doing anything but standing there together (well, there may have been some kissing involved), but it was the most romantic, date-like thing we've done in a long time.

Just us. No clamor, no boys, no work. Just us, with the water and the wind and our arms around each other.I'm still not entirely on the "date your spouse" train, especially not if you're in the stage of life we're in and it's just plain hard, but there is something to be said about time alone together, even if it's just a few minutes down by the river.There's also something to be said about a husband who looks past the sink, stove, and counter still full of dirty dishes from last night's party, the unfolded laundry piles that have been there since Monday, and the ever-cluttered counter to say, "I'm excited about your new blog post."

You're the best, Eric.