With both our children gone yet again to camp for the week, Mr. Handsome and I were at a loss as to what to do with ourselves. Our nest was empty, our birds had flown.
When the children were younger, Mr. Handsome and I would be gleeful when they'd go off to camp, because suddenly we were free to go out without having to get a babysitter. It was a treat, to be sure, because we rarely went out. As most of you know, with young kids, it's just hard.
However, now, the kids are both old enough that they can be left alone for
days on end hours, which is wonderful in one sense, but in another sense, it's so commonplace now that when they're actually gone to camp, Mr. Handsome and I would rather just stay home and enjoy the absolute peace in the house instead of go out someplace and have a bowl of chicken soup. In fact, we end up going to bed by 9:30 every night and sleeping. Not an exaggeration.
The most excitement we've had recently is Mr. Handsome's craving for coconut cream pie. Who knows from where these strange, but wonderful, ideas originate?! I don't think he's ever craved coconut cream pie before, but then again, he recently also changed his underwear, so there you go. Miracles will obviously never cease.
With both kids away, our mealtime rituals (aka actually having sitdown meals as opposed to eating whenever and whatever) melt away. For instance, on Monday, our first day of childless bliss, I had the following food for the day:
* the remnants of a bag of plain chips
* the remnants of a bag of party mix
* three chocolate croissants
* two cinnamon croissants
Even I'm disgusted with myself, and that almost never happens.
So, once Mr. Handsome came home from work on Monday, his coconut cream pie craving became more than a craving: it turned into a veritable need, a compulsion. He came home, sat down on the couch, and said, "We have to find a coconut cream pie."
Just like that, we were on a quest. A quest for coconut cream pie, forever after known as The Quest.
I immediately went on the Interwebs, but to no avail. There was no pie to be had, unless you wanted to drop into a restaurant for a simple piece of pie, but that would not do for Mr. Handsome. He needed the whole pie. And now.
I looked and looked, but the internet did not provide. We felt like we had just been bull-whipped by the Internet, which had so totally provided for us in the past, from awesome Ebay purchases to instant medical remedies and cheap Viagra.
We were stunned. Nay, beyond stunned we were, because we did not know what to do.
And then, Mr. Handsome had a thought. He had a memory twinge. This is, in itself, a miracle because Mr. Handsome's brain switch often goes to the "off" position as soon as he leaves work.
He remembered this restaurant that sold whole pies. He ordered me to go back on to the interwebs and find this restaurant. And I did as I was bade. And then Mr. Handsome called the restaurant and asked, in a rather squeaky and unusual voice, if they had any of the "Quest Pie", the golden orb, the pie of the gods. The Coconut Cream Pie.
And guess what, guys!! THEY DID!!
Only problem was, this restaurant is all the way on the other side of the city. As in, far enough away that Mr. Handsome usually nixes anything which requires driving this distance. However, this time, there was no hesitation when he demanded I get on some pants that actually covered my butt cheeks and accompany him to retrieve the Pie.
I did as I was told and off we drove, literally into the sunset (although, as I write this, I realize the sun was setting all the way over in the west, and not in the east. Minor problem. Use your imagination.), and actually made it to the restaurant in only 12 minutes, which I'm pretty sure is probably an all-time record for Mr. Handsome, since he normally drives as fast as an old man wearing a hat. And what I mean by that is, not fast. Not fast at all.
I stayed in the car to keep Gryphon company while Mr. Handsome entered the restaurant to retrieve the golden orb ... the treasure ... The Pie.
We got the amazing god pie home and Mr. Handsome proceeded to cut us each a healthy slice. We tucked into it gladly, oohing and aaahing continually as we tasted its oh so creamy goodness, it heavenly coconut flavour. I then commented that we'd be lucky if the pie lasted 24 hours. Mr. Handsome smirked at the thought. Surely it would last at least two days.
It's gone. I'm right again. The end.