All couples have their dances. Ours is often dinner. There are days I don’t feel well, and there are days like yesterday, where I REALLY don’t feel well. My fibromyalgia is flaring, and quite frankly, kicking my ass. I have a migraine that wants to manifest, but sits in my right temple and my tense neck muscles just taunting me. Still, there are still the day to day things that need done.
My husband gets home from work. He knows by my state of dress (true pajamas, not even yoga pants) that it’s a bad day. I’m laying on the couch tweeting from my phone because I’m letting the 5yo play Mario Kart just so I can rest a bit. My husband knows that I’m most likely not cooking dinner before he even asks. The question then remains, does he cook? Do we get take out? Or do we just go somewhere that has a kids’ night?
Often we opt for take out. There is a hoagie shop that one time I lost the dance, I clocked the mileage at 0.6 miles from our house. I had to laugh when I found out how far it is from the house because we often end up playing rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes to get the food. If I’m really feeling that poorly, my husband will just go. I’ve been fortunate to not have too many of those days lately, but at the same time it means that I have to negotiate to be the one to stay home.
0.6 miles. That’s our hoagie dance. What kind of dance do you share?