I’m ashamed to say that it took us four months to go out on our second date since the boy’s birth.  The first one didn’t really count because it was our anniversary, a month after Bryce moved in.  It is was my mom who kept the baby.  Which also doesn’t count for all the sneaky fears which dance around in the head while you’re sipping soup or cutting meat.  Still, for the last few weeks we had been talking about going out.  Yes, we’re finding that a date starts weeks in advance! 

The plan for was Friday.  But Thursday night a friend’s plans changed so instead of taking Dawn out on Friday, we went out Thursday.  It was extremely good timing, given our last few weeks with grief and stress and the normal bouncing and dropping which come with our lives. 

There was not much time to plan.  Dawn wanted to laugh.  I had been looking into comedy clubs for the next day.  So, we traisped over to a neighborhood restaurant and then to Bronzeville’s Jokes & Notes.  Three reflections from the night.

1. Friends are priceless.  If you have them, they do all types of kind things for you, including watching or quieting or rocking your kid, even when your kid is supposed to be asleep.  This boy goes down for four solid hours nightly.  By 7:30.  He’s out.  He complains when and if we make him stay up longer.  But on date night does he follow his routine?  Of course not, so we’re at Park 52 texting.  I’m looking at Dawn, glancing the menu, and trying to convince the wife that that last text has expired.  The one about him screaming 20 minutes after we left has now lapsed and is no longer relevant.  The one about our friend wondering if the neighbors will call Chicago’s finest–ignore that too.  Illia was so even about it.  She calmly did what would have made me crazy a couple months ago, before I learned how nutty a new dad’s life can be.  She handled the boy softly.  Played his favorite song.  Rocked and whispered to him.  A friend does this.  And when you come home, she’s still your friend.  They offer to do the same thing again and mean it.  How can you price that?
2. Laughter is good for you.  Visiting a comedy club is one of the best ways to restart dating after you’ve not taken your wife out because of a new non-paying tenant, also known as your first child.  Now, me and Dawn talk.  We talk about each other.  We probably talk about you.  But at a comedy club you don’t have to talk.  Particularly when you’ve committed to not being one of those couples who only talk about the kid–even though everything this soon is always about the kid.  That’s another post.  So you get to hear other people talk.  Like going to a movie but getting so much more out of the show.  You hear comics who are starting and comics who are seasoned.  You get to see normal people up and out at night, late at night.  You wonder if this is how life is now for some people, and it’s so close to your home.  You’re refreshed at the idea that you could have been home with a screaming boy and not known about all those laughs and hysterics.
3. I love going places where no one knows me.  Especially clubs.  I know this may sound wierd since I’m a preacher.  I know that some of my preaching relatives may raise an eyebrow to this.  But there is something refreshing about being in a different place, with no responsibility, to be entertained.  Jokes & Notes was dark.  We saw no one we knew, which is a small accomplishment in the neighborhood.  Frankly, most of the people I know would have loved to see us out.  One or two would have dressed their faces with that glance of concern, that long question that asks, “Why are you out don’t you have a baby and should I call the people on you now or wait until you get up to go to the restroom?” 

That night I was subject to looking at the concerned face, had I saw it, hiding my phone and ordering them a mai tai or a “what dat do” to calm their fears.