Last night, Marcus and I dropped Alex off on a camping trip, and then suddenly realized that we were child-free on a Friday night. So we decided to stop off at a local bar and make like we had a social life again.
After a couple of French 75s (me) and whiskeys (Marcus), we noticed (a) that the bar had a fire pit, ostensibly to take the chill off after coming in from the frigid Houston winter night (it was 65°F outside), and (b) Marcus and I, at 45 and 47 respectively, were among the youngest in the bar (when I mentioned this on Facebook, a friend helpfully asked, "where are you, a cruise ship?"). It was sort of surreal.
Still a great, fun night. A great fun night that had us both home by 10:30. (Apparently, we are unable to even fake as rollicking a social life as we imagine.)