Dates and Babies

Good weekend. The key to happiness, perhaps, is low expectations.
Take my recent date, for example. One of my very nice friends has asked me out for ages, and I always found I was previously engaged. Of course, part of that was because I'm not interested in him in that way as we used to say in sixth grade. But I generally book up several weeks in advance, especially where weekends are concerned. I had a slight bit of apprehension concerning the evening, mostly because when he asked me out, he used President Brown's program of "How to Ask a Girl on a Date." This includes calling at least as early as Tuesday for a Friday event, telling the girl you want to take her on a date (as opposed to "hanging out"), telling her you'll pay for it, letting her know the time, activity and dress code, and finally how you'd like the evening to wrap up.
A sample script is as follows:
Hello, Rachel, this is Matt Lauer calling. I'm so glad you are available to talk to me this fine Tuesday evening. I was wondering if you are free this coming Friday evening, because I'd like to take you on a date. I'll be paying, of course, and I'd like to take you to a premiere of a new Broadway show. Afterwards, I thought we'd eat at Tavern on the Green, and end the evening with dancing at the Rainbow Room, so you'll want to wear something smashing, but comfortable because I long to spend hours and hours with you. As you live in New Mexico, I've arranged for my private jet to pick you up on Friday morning, and you'll arrive in the city with plenty of time to change clothes. I know you love H&M, so I've instructed my driver (you'll be riding in my limo, of course) to drop you by the 5th Avenue location. I'd love for the evening to end with a passionate hug, and a peck on the cheek. Would this be acceptable?
Of course, that date has yet to come to pass, and you'll remember I'd never presume to actually go out with my celebrity crush Matt, because he is married and I'm not a home wrecker. Instead, while I was waiting in the parking lot of the Espanola Wal-Mart, I received the following phone call:

Hi Rachel, this is A__. Can you talk?
Yes, but just for a moment, I said, expecting my mother to be done at the pharmacy at any moment (little did I know it would be another hour before we'd be back on the road and I'd lose reception on my phone).
I would like to take you out next Friday if you don't have plans.
Hmm... actually, I DON'T have plans, I said, after hemming and hawing. I couldn't think of any plans I might be able to conjure up to avoid this date.
Well, wonderful. I'd like to take you to a 3-D movie and to dinner at this excellent cafe. Casual clothes will be fine. I'm a hugger, so I'd love to end the evening with a hug, but I'm not opposed to making out if you would like to do so.

Ummm...
Anyway, the date was better than expected. More like they should be-- two old friends spending a little time together. There was a hug. No kissing. At one point, A__ talked about our many mutual friends getting married this summer. He said, "Well, H__ isn't getting married until August." And without skipping a beat, I said, "And I'm actually not getting married until October." The look on his face was priceless (it rather reminded me of the time I was dating a rather naive young man who, like so many before him, was enchanted by my kissing ability. However, said chap got a little concerned and said, "We'd better stop before we make a baby." And I said, "It's OK, I'm on birth control." Hahahahahahahahahah! Of course, I am, but it's for my skin, and what's more, there was NO WAY things would have gone any further than a bit of kissing. Plus also, someone really needed to tell him where babies come from. Anyway, he couldn't speak for several minutes, and my Friday date had that same shocked look on his face). Rather than let him suffer long, I told him I was joking, because he was just about to congratulate me on my engagement. Now, I may be a bit of a player, but I doubt I'd accept a date from someone were I engaged to someone else. Besides, that would have been an excellent excuse last Friday.
Anyway, it was a lovely evening. Aside from me nearly inducing a heart attack, A__ and I had many interesting things to talk about, and I was happy to have him further educate me on steam punks. Bonus!
The weekend was not without some mystery and intrigue, however, as poor Mother called me yesterday on my way home from church. She was in tears, and I could barely understand her. Molly, our little dog of 13+ years, had run away, and Mumsy had already scoured the neighborhood and ditch banks looking for her. I tried to keep her calm, and raced home with all the speed of someone who drives a 300C but just got a speeding ticket less than a week ago could muster. Happily, after a little more searching, we found Miss Molly at the neighbor's. They'd kindly taken care of her, but put her in their house while they'd been to church, which was why my mom hadn't found her before. After that, Mum was a bit wiped out, and Molly just pranced around, looking quite proud of herself. That dog is an ingrate, but how I love her!
Fortunately, the rest of the evening was quite pleasant. My brother-in-law's cousins are visiting my sister for a long weekend, and the guests are an odd couple of 16-year-olds. Most enchanting was Robert's cousin Aaron, who is outrageous in every sense of the word. My favorite part of the evening was when he and his cousin Crisselda (that's really her name) came over to my house to demonstrate all the dances they know from "High School Musical." Aaron took all the girl parts, leaving C to be his backup dancer. I loved every moment of it!
What's more, my own cousin Justin and his wife, Janalee, came to my parents' house last night for a brief visit. In tow was their little ginger-haired princess, Abbie. The following picture does not begin to do justice to Abbie's cuteness, but here is a fairly neutral expression from Miss Abbie: Generally, though, Abbie likes to give me the following expression:

What can I say? Children don't much care for me. Zoey was on rather good behavior last night, and perhaps even more affectionate than usual, trying to keep us from giving Abbie all our attention. This does not bode well for the coming of her little sister, because I think the charming act can only last so long before she's pushing little Bean #2 out of her bassinet, much like her favorite Aunt Rachel did to her father (who she now calls "Ben" instead of "Dad") so many years ago. 17 months apart tends to do that to children, I suppose.

Anyway, Abbie charmed the pants off everyone (not literally, of course) last night, with her newest trick. Despite her sometimes saturnine disposition, the girl loves to kiss.

And yes, that's the face she makes every time she's ready to give you some sugar. I pretty much stayed up all night laughing and thinking about how cute and funny she is. Crisselda, in line for dessert, told me I must love babies and wish I had some. I told her the truth-- that I actually only like other people's. But I am glad there are so many charming ones around. Even the surly ones are good for laughs.