It is one of our family jokes, me being a cheap date that is. Tonight Gregg and I did something we don't often do mid-week, we went to a restaurant for our dinner. It is our second 'date'. Monday evening I had to do a little grocery shopping for the small restaurant I work at. I got out earlier than expected that afternoon, and I met up with Gregg because he had a slow day too and offered to help me with the shopping. We were on our way out of CostCo's when he saw that there was no line at the food kiosk, and my darling hubby pointing in its direction with what I can only describe as a hopeful, questionning look on his face said, "Do you feel like a hotdog?" I replied with a big smile. As he handed me my ever so delicious foot-long I chirped up, "Once again I have proven I am a cheap date!" and we laughed. We think along the same lines more often than not. It had been a while since we had our last hotdog and at that point in time we both wanted the same thing. We were hungry enough that it tasted as good as a ten course meal.
The Outback is only a five minute drive from our home. I didn't have to go into work today, I kept myself busy enough to miss breakfast and lunch, so around 3.30 p.m. a seed was sowing. Kangaroos and koala bears were jumping around in my head. I had been thinking of the Outback at our local shopping area. I told myself it was too late to eat now and I might as well wait for dinner. When Gregg got home I pointed towards the Outback two miles away and with an equally hopeful and questionning look on my face said, "Do you feel like the Outback Special?" When I was sitting with my three-lobster-tail meal in front of me and sipping on a Margarita, Gregg chirped up, "You're not such a cheap date tonight!". "Nope!"