A Not So Trophy Wife Valentine's Day

Since my life is dictated by people under age 18, which includes my own spawn and a handful of teen babysitters, our initial Valentine's Day plans were put to a screeching halt days before. The babysitter of the evening had better plans, which probably involved a fast car and a cute guy.

While I had initially planned to do something unconventional, which included taking the Alpha Male dog-sledding in a park nearby, I scored getting dinner and movie reservations at a local historical plantation last-minute. Sounds romantic?

Yeah, I thought so too.

I found another babysitter, who is fortunately the bookish type, knowing her chances of finding someone to hang out with other than her parents were probably as good as mine in high school.

Like always, we arrived more than fashionably late. We were seated at the last available table, which was positioned completely away from the more endearing elements of the room, such as the fireplace and soft lightning. Instead, we were positioned under a blaring spotlight and next to the harried kitchen staff.

Alpha Male felt we should have dressed better than his sport coat and my tops and pants.

After we wolfed down dinner since our waitress was politely encouraging us to move quickly, the movie selections offered were "Au Chocolat" and an independent film called "Tiny Furniture."

We opted for the indie since Alpha Male had already seen the other movie. He had warned me ahead of time that he was worried it would be a pretentious, self-important movie made by some twenty-something pseudo-intellectual who was living off her parent's wealth. Nothing is a bigger buzz kill for someone who reads the The Economist like the Fundamentalists read the Bible.

I advised that we should sit in the back row in case the movie became too "boring" so we could pretend we were teenagers again. Once Alpha Male saw the silver-haired set surrounding us, he advised that the best I could hope for myself was to sleep the movie out.

Unfortunately, the movie lived below the Alpha Male's minimum expectations. While I don't want to give any spoilers, I wouldn't have rented this movie at the library. It ranked up there with the movie "Magnolia," which only Mensa Sister understands. Other than two snarky lines given by the stereotypical New Yorker who wore only a bra for most of the feature, the trailer's critic comments about the movie being a "droll" sums it up without the other unnecessary adjectives.

When Alpha Male let out a hysterical laugh once the movie was finally over, I knew what that meant. When I came back to the house after dropping the babysitter off, he was already catatonic in bed.

No one accused me of being too hot on Valentine's Day.