Date #2 – Mr. P

So the week wore on with my stomach on the mend.  Almost too many lovely texts and phone calls went back and forth (hindsight: Error #2).  And too much thinking about how I was going to corner him to kiss him again took up an enormous amount of brain power.  (It’s been a really LONG time, give me a break, people.)

Date #2 was a party at his friend’s house where there were lots of lawn games to play and prizes to win.

All this thinking about outfits was wearing me out.  It was going to be hot, somewhat athletic, and casual, but I needed to wear something pretty.  Argh!  For this date, I was much more relaxed so I just went with a little flirty skirt, tee and flips.  It was quite possibly the hottest night on record so thankfully I chose wisely.  I wouldn’t say it was the sexiest outfit on the planet, it was more practical (hindsight: Error #3)  Perhaps bending over in the flirty skirt to pick up the bocce ball 700 times would work in my favor – maybe not.  I planned to sauce it up for Date #3.  But that never happened.  I’ll get to that later.

He picked me up at the curb this time, leaned over to open the door and gave me the over-the-console hug in his car.  Is it just me, or are you feeling the distance too?

We get to the party, meet some of his friends, there are a few people I know as well, so we hang out and start talking and drinking.  This was a little awkward for me because most of these people I know remotely through work.  Most of them know that last year I was pregnant.  And now I show up as Mr. P’s date?  There were some confused looks to say the least.  I had to brush it off and just roll.

He gave me the “I’m going to leave you alone and see how you fare” test.  I think I passed.  I played washers with another girl and had fun.  No biggie.  We played bocce a couple of times, (I bent over a lot to chase the ball) we chatted, snacked, talked some more just to each other and then played our own little solitary game of washers.  I feel like I performed athletically better than I thought I would which I hope impressed him.  Maybe I intimidated him with my athleticism (Accurate assessment #4 – perhaps. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.)  Meanwhile, everyone is literally sweating as if we were on the surface of the sun.  It was miserable.  Then the mosquitoes arrived.

We decided to leave and enjoy the air-conditioning of his car on the way home.  I asked him in.  Of course, for more kissing!  He helped me dismiss the impressionable young sitter.  And we proceeded to kiss.  A lot.  There was some minor grabbing and stuff, (Sorry you had to hear that, Dad.  He did the grabbing, not me.) Which of course made it more fun.  It was so great.  Again.  Great, great, great. And then the classic line.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”  Ah, we all know what that means, right?


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