Date Night

Labour day, the last long weekend of summer.  Three days of mumum and dada with the added bonus of Gia-Gia (grandma) and Aunty GaGa (my sister). It was to be a grand weekend. He was finally getting over his recent illness, we had support in additional adults, and he finally has gotten comfy with returning to daycare after various summer vacations. The stars were aligned. This was going to be big. It was time for date night, on a Saturday. And a big Date Night at that. It was our anniversary, our third, but the first time one of us wasn't pregnant or breastfeeding. Grand plans, I tell ya.

We were going to try something new, something hip even. We were going to try one of those trendy Toronto restaurants where they don't take reservations and sometimes you just have to sit at the bar and wait for your table. Good food, tasty cocktails, not feeling beholden to pint-sized despot. Even our babysitter didn't have curfew. This was going to be huge. We were going to go for it.

First we stopped at our resto of choice: unfortunately, closed for the weekend. Revamping the menu or something. OK, no biggie. We thought we'd try number two on the hip list.

Second stop: no resos allowed, but we won't seat you at the bar either. What happened to those tasty cocktails? And actually "how about you poke your little head in a little while and see how it's going".  Hmmm. Unfamiliar with the "head-poke" night out technique. We must be less cool than we used to be.

Third Stop: progress.  Got on the list, but with a wait time anywhere from 1 to 2 hours. Are there any other restaurants round here?

Fourth, fifth and sixth stop: "What do you mean you don't have reservations?"  "But up the street they dont take them . . ." as doors close cooly in our faces forcing us back out in the unseasonably chilly night air. Did I mention that despite being the last long weekend of summer, the temperatures were closer to late fall? And weren't those lots of empty tables in there?

Pause for deliberations. We are definitely not cool enough anymore. How does this going out for dinner thing work again? Did it used to be like this? Why does that place stink like putrid fish? Has it always been this loud in restaurants? What? Where do we go now? Happy anniversary honey.

We finally did find somewhere to eat. Our waitress was great and the food decent, but it wasn't quite the night we'd planned.

And just to top it off, the little guy made sure to add his two cents. He clearly didnt see anything wrong with 4:30am start to Sunday.