And He Sticks the Landing!

So, I took Special K out for a very special dinner last night at Vidalia, my favorite-est restaurant in the city. Everything from the service to the food has always been excellent every time I’ve been there, and I just love, love, love it. We had a great time together, talking about all kinds of things past and present, and were being all ooey-gooey with each other. It was cute. In preparation for the evening’s events, I was wearing my new very favorite dress (which I managed to get a splash of something on – it is now at my favorite gas station drycleaner in the hopes that my green silk dress will be lovely and beautiful and splash-free soon), and Special K had also gone shopping and bought a few new items that he wore for the occasion. Including new dress shoes.

Now, what is one of the first things you should always do when you get new dress shoes?

What’s that, you say?

If you said “scuff them”, then you would be correct.

Do you know what happens when you don’t scuff them? Right.

As we were walking down the set of four steps from the upper level of the dining room in Vidalia, heading to the restrooms and then upstairs to retrieve the car, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. The thing I noticed was the reflection in the mirror of Special K, who had been walking behind me down the steps, flailing down the last step, limbs akimbo, and arriving in a heap of wool crepe at the bottom of the stairs. He managed NOT to do a face-plant, and NOT to plummet into the chairs in front of him, and actually had one of his feet underneath him, landing in a kneeling position. This was not, however, a horrifyingly elaborate way of getting down on bended knee to propose. Which is fortunate, as I was doubled over laughing.

I think it took us about 20 minutes or so to regain our composure, because whenever either one of us would calm down, the other managed to start laughing again. I think we had almost made it back to my house by the time calm reigned, and then we had to describe the scene to Brunette. Whereupon we started laughing again.

Happily, there was no permanent injury to life, limb, or dignity.

Ah, the good times.