Genious or Quirky?

My husband wants me to be able to tell stories about his quirkiness after he dies in 80 years. I figure that since I have difficulty recollecting details of people, events, conversations, books, or what have you, I should probably write them down now so later I could show the great-grandchildren without leaving anything out.

Tonight, hubby and I had a date, which are rare occasions due to the fact that we have 3 children and having to search out a baby-sitter who wants to keep 3 children is a hard find in these parts. We had a very romantic outing to The Shoe Station, Old Navy, Gap, El Vaquero (Georgia's lame attempt at good Mexican food), 10 minutes in Wal-Mart, and finishing off at Elements to hear a friend play some good music.

We arrived at our friends gig at about 8ish, where we ran into our friends fan club (his mom, dad, and grandmother), who had the staff of the coffee shop turn the couch around so hubby and I could have front row, comfortable seats during the show. I ordered the drinks, one sixteen ounce Americano with a shot of hazelnut for Ben, and one sixteen ounce english toffee latte with extra foam for me, and two pounds of whole bean espresso roast to indulge my latte habit at home. The drinks were good, the music was fantastic, and the cafe filled up quickly. So quickly, I might add, that the temperature in the joint reached 90, possibly 95. All of a sudden, we were surrounded by a large group of 45 or so people (all younger, except for the fan club). At this point, my quirky man begins to panic, and he's ready to either ask the owner of the cafe if he has any liquor to add to his Americano, or to high-tail it outta there. I had to inform Ben that the people were not there to see him, and that everything was going to be okay. The caffeine from the espresso infused water, and the heat from his drink caused him to break out in a sweat. Those two things combined caused him to fidget on the couch like a fish flopping around on a boat deck. He made it through the first set, and at intermission, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of place with my feet scurrying to catch up. As my body hit the balmy 89 degree temperature outside, we both felt instant relief, and began to cool.

I decided then and there that this would be one of those memories I'd like to share when we're old and gray (although the gray part seems to be coming a little sooner than expected for me.)