We arrived early for our date night reservation. Excited to have dinner alone at Autre Monde, an Italian restaurant in Berwyn, yes, Berwyn, that has gotten fabulous reviews (and rightly so, but that's another story).
"Belaval for 2 at 7:30PM" I said.
The hostess took a look at her list.
"Could it be under another name?"
My hormonal bitchiness kicked in, "I confirmed it with the owner." (I happen to know the couple who owns the restaurant)
"I can't find you here."
Suddenly, John the owner comes to the rescue.
"How are you, Ana? We were expecting you tomorrow but it's ok, we can totally sit you now."
I took one look at the confirmation email and there it was:
7:30PM November 11th
The pathetic part is that for a week I've thought November 11th WAS Saturday.
Just another case of the pregnant brain: loss of memory, short and long, at least during 40 weeks of your life.
Our daughter has taken karate every Monday for the last 10 weeks. Since I've been pregnant, I've forgotten 4 times about karate. I've had to rely on friends and even my 5 year old to remind me.
But my memory is not the only thing that is almost gone, I think this baby is sucking on other brain cells too.
After our outstanding dinner at Autre Monde Cafe and as I was getting ready for bed I tell my husband:
"Everything was wonderful except for the bathroom. I have no idea why they had a urinal in it."
"You went to the men's room Ana" replied my husband.
Yep, I went to the men's room, TWICE. Ay Mama!