Wade and I woke up Sunday morning to a dull pain in our heads and mouths that felt like we had been chewing on cotton balls all night. My first thoughts were, when are we going to grow up? And why do we always feel the need to turn it up a notch when we go out on dates together? We concluded that we needed release from our chaotic lives and that we were celebrating our alone time.
Saturday was a day from heaven. Instead of rushing off to yoga or getting up early to write, I stayed in bed with Wade and we spent the morning watching the weather changing patterns in the clouds, tinting the fields different shades of green. We languidly enjoyed our unscheduled day and got up only when the mood compelled us and then we went on a bike ride together up the back country roads behind our house. At one point I tried to tag Wade up a hill inducing a serious bout of nausea and exhaustion. It was truly romantic when Wade spat his warm water in my face to revive me.
Flowing on, we drove down to The Carbondale Mountain Fair, a welcome departure from the sheltered and homogeneous world of Aspen. Parking was a chore and so Wade four wheeled his truck onto a dumped sand mount which was next to two men who were muddling about with their dogs, getting ready to enjoy the fair. As we walked away Wade commented on how funny I am that I need to break out into photo shoot mode wherever we are.
I was ready to turn up the volume when Wade mentioned that we often zigzag, meaning that we are not always in sync on our evenings together When I zig, he tends to zag. I disagreed and told him that I was always zigging and that he usually needed a few beers to zig along with me.
The second we arrived, I zigged away to go explore the plethora of unique crafts being sold in the booths. The aroma wafting from the Indian food booth and the incredible photo opportunities were making me giddy. Is that what happens when one has kids, our senses and desires get put in cold storage? My heart started racing at this opportunity to enjoy myself without catering to my children.
I returned wearing a new hip dress. The clothing booths had terrific affordable clothes and I could not resist the temptation. In my new outfit I was ready to hit the town and so we left the fair to go to Phat Thai, one of our many favorite restaurants in Carbondale. On our way I heard, “Oooohhh, yummy, Cougar”. I looked up to the rooftop where it came from hoping that the comment had not been directed at me. Sure enough the offender with jet black spiky hair, a spiky goatee to match and earrings attached to every orifice, gave me a smile and a “reeeeaaarrrr”, one of those half meow, half growl mating calls.
Wade said I should feel complimented but I was plagued with the idea that the boy had noticed, from way up high, that I was over forty. The whole evening, I had felt ageless floating through the crowds, flirting with strangers and taking photos and did not appreciate reality being thrown in my face.
It was a set back but it didn’t stop me from dancing with Wade to the local band with my sunglasses on. We drove home talking about how we missed the boys but how we still relished our freedom and agreed that waking up to headaches was more desirable than waking up to three little boys playing ninja at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning.