Yesterday marked Sally and my 33rd wedding anniversary. For the most part we did what we normally do on a Tuesday -- I fixed her oatmeal and coffee, and she went to work. Given the nice weather forecast, Sally rode her bike downtown, and then Evan and I rode down to meet her for the ride home.
Our anniversary celebration was dinner at Clinkerdagger in Spokane, accompanied by Evan. We have tried several other "nice" restaurants in town for such events, usually coming away less than satisfied. At one we were diverted to the basement bar where they "served the same menu", ostensibly so fogies like us would not interfere with the beautiful people facade of the restaurant.
In other instances we have been totally ignored by wait staff, or served food that was remarkably pedestrian for the price. In the latter case, we once made the mistake of offering an honest opinion about our meal when asked by a waiter. That occasioned a scene not unlike Monty Python's dirty fork sketch.
Last night featured no such theatrics. I called for a reservation and was asked if it was for a special occasion. Given our affirmative response we were seated in an area with a lovely view of the river and downtown, adjacent to some other parties celebrating birthdays and anniversaries. The waiter was helpful and courteous, the food was exceptional, and they even threw in a complimentary crème brûlée.
Evan's presence was both helpful (he was our designated driver) and typical for our anniversary celebrations. For our twenty-fifth anniversary, Sally and I considered a number of possible ways of celebrating before independently deciding what we most cherished was the opportunity to have dinner with our kids. Eight years later, we still enjoy having each and all of our kids with us at any opportunity. To have been together for so long and still have such love for each other and for our kids is a great blessing, and one which I do not take for granted.