Date your spouse.

This post is sponsored post by Fyllan and Rozzelle Court Restaurant in the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, Missouri.

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Date your spouse.

It’s marriage advice. You’ll hear it at weddings. You might even hear it repeated at a baby shower. It’s advice for empty nesters or retirees too, although that’s a guess. I haven’t reached that point in life.

The fact that it is a piece of advice will tell you it’s hard. Dating your spouse is hard.

Babies are good at putting out a rockstar couple’s fire. Really good, like rolling in on a firetruck with a water hose. But I’m not here to tell you that. You know. You also know it’s not always the kids. It’s stress too – the adult kind of stress that no one sees coming. A job loss. A breast cancer diagnosis. Losing a baby. Caring for aging parents. Life will throw something at you.

Even the day-to-day repetition can turn a marriage from for better into for worse. This isn’t a sad post. It’s a real one.

Date your spouse.

What kind of date? Well, that’s up to you.

I’ll tell you one of my favorite dates – feed me and take my dirty dishes away. 

For better is red lipstick. It’s watching Scott knot a tie even though he changed his mind later and went with a cowboy shirt instead. It’s curling my big hair. Scott trims his beard. He won’t shave it all because he knows I love his beard. For better is when Scott kisses my hand in the car on the way to our dinner date. I’m driving, of course, because I wear the pants in the relationship. That was a terrible joke, Scott. I’m sorry. For better is a dress and high heels. The heels that are just high enough to put me face-to-face with Scott. I love being his equal. He opens the restaurant doors for me and lets me walk in first.

For worse is putting in our name and waiting. It’s staring at other couples waiting. Everyone is on their phones.

For worse is making a mental note who was waiting before you. It’s our night, not theirs.

For worse is knowing you’re paying a babysitter to watch the kids while you stare at a hostess. You question if you remembered to give her your name after asking how long the wait is. Yes, I have done this before and Scott will never let me live it down.

Romance shouldn’t come with a wait.

Fyllan (pronounced “fill-in”) is a new restaurant app for your android or iPhone. I got to try out the app on Friday. We never waited for a table at Rozzelle Court Restaurant in the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City. Scott and I checked in by showing the app code and we were ushered directly to our table.

The app works in real time so you never have to call or book a reservation days in advance. The app is free to download.

The app is easy to use. We picked a restaurant from the map.

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We wanted a restaurant with ambience. Oh, I don’t know, maybe a 15th-century Italian courtyard ambience. And live music! Sold.

Rozzelle Court Restaurant at the Nelson-Atkins Museum.

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We booked two guests for a 7 pm dinner time on July July 21, 2017.

Each restaurant will display a price to book. The price is determined by the restaurant according to the average ticket cost. This cost, paid on your credit card at time of booking, is used as a credit towards your final bill. The credit will also cover gratuity. Restaurants may list specials or additional options such as “meet the chef.” Fyllan charges 10% of your final bill for its service. Fyllan will make sure you’re dating – not waiting.

And rest of your night is yours.

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Thank you Rozzelle Court Restaurant and the Nelson-Atkins Museum. I am not a food blogger or even a foodie but you sure do make me look good on a Friday night.

And Fyllan – thank you for giving us a date night without the wait.

Scott still knows how to make me laugh for the better.

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Links: 

Fyllan app

Rozzelle Court Restaurant

Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, Missouri.

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And don’t forget to buy my book, “But Did You Die?”

Ring of Fire.

“This morning, with her, having coffee.” – Johnny Cash, when asked for his description of paradise.

“I mean, I don’t know, is her name Julie or something?” – Scott Burton, when asked if he knew who Johnny Cash was referring to.

(It’s June, Scott. Like your niece.)

If you follow me on any social media you know that Scott and I went to Nashville, Tennessee this weekend.

We needed a date weekend with country music and whiskey. Sure, you can find country music and whiskey in my own house but you won’t find this horse.

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Or this one.

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I call them date weekends. Sometimes we bring friends along. Sometimes we don’t. We never bring the kids.

Date weekends are a re-charge.

I get to date a bearded guy named Scott.

He’s taller than me but not by much when I have my cowboy boots on. After a few minutes of conversation, he can impersonate anyone’s accent. This only makes him more fun when he’s buying me drinks next to a group of guys from Bah-ston.

I pack my best clothes for date weekends. I don’t know why I do this because we never go anywhere that requires anything more than jeans and a t-shirt. Yet, my date tells me I am the prettiest after the sun goes away and the only makeup left on my face is a sunburn. I don’t believe it. Cancer and wrinkles, Scott.

We are not a mom and dad on date weekends.

We don’t have jobs to report to.

We are not husband and wife. Scott didn’t even get mad when I gave the taxi driver Luke Bryan’s house address.

The only thing we have to worry about on date weekends is if a honky tonk will show K-State playing on one of their TVs. And then crying down the streets of Nashville because football is the saddest country song we’ve ever heard. Jesus.

We’re just two friends on a date. We wake up in a strange town, in a strange bed. The only plan we make is spontaneity.

And somehow, with him, the taste of coffee the next morning is always home.

Where is your favorite place to travel with your date? Have you been to Nashville? Would you rather travel for dates or stay in town? Do you always bring your kids when you travel? Do you know all the words to Ring of Fire because I totally bombed that one.