This might not sound like a big deal to some of you, but my wife and I are going on a date. This isn't something we get to do nearly as often as we'd like; it's amazing the amount of time that an almost-ten-month-old baby can take up.
It's her birthday, though, and she deserves something special, so we're going to drop Brontë off with my sister (who has bravely volunteered to babysit), and then I shall whisk her away to the restaurant of her choice, where we shall dine on something tasty. After that, it's hard to say, but we might both be feeling separation anxiety from our baby by that point. It's hard to say. We'll figure it out, though; we always seem to do so.
Anyway, I'm off now. Here's to you, the love of my life, and to a fine evening, just the two of us. I love you.
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