Home Sweet Home.

Tonight Kira and Kiyomi are going to a slumber party to celebrate the birthday of one of their best friends, Samantha. This won't be the first time we've been away from them, since once a year Rigel and I dupe some unsuspecting soul into watching them for twenty-four hours while we steal away for our anniversary. Also, they've been on sleepovers individually but not together, and this is only the second time since we've had children (ten years) that we will be spending the night in our home without the two of them. The first time was when we were moving into this house and our friends took them overnight while we dealt with the chaos. That almost doesn't count, though, since it's fairly impossible to feel romantic when you're surrounded by five thousand moving boxes and obsessively scrubbing the toilets because, oh God, strangers' butts have sat on them.

Tonight we'll start off with dinner with friends, and after that the possibilities are endless. Once we've come home, changed into our evening gown and smoking jacket and filled our cognac snifters, here are some things that we could do that aren't possible with a seven and nine year old underfoot:

Tantric sex while hanging from the chandelier. (Oh, wait, we don't have a chandelier. Oh, wait, we actually have time to go buy a chandelier.)

Sit out by the fire pit without having to roast marshmallows or yell, "I'm not going to tell you again. The cat does not like fire."

Go naked. Without anyone pointing and laughing. (Rigel, is that asking too much?)

Have a conversation without the theme to "SpongeBob" playing in the background.

Give each other a kiss without hearing, "Ewwwwww!" (Unless the neighbors are around.)

Go to the bathroom without feeling like you're being watched. (Once again, unless the neighbors are around.)

Sleep soundly knowing we will not be awakened to dispense water or any varieties of Triaminic.

Go an entire evening without hearing "Can I have a snack?" unless it is used as a euphemism.

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