12 dates…that’s right, that isn’t an error, or a misprint, we were on our twelfth date...and we had even had the D.T.R. discussion. And though we had decided not to be exclusive, (due to my inability to be emotionally available) I visualized it heading in that direction.
So there he stood, patiently waiting while I finished getting ready with a look of total, unreserved adoration. *sigh*
As we headed out the door and proceeded to his truck hand-in-hand, I found myself perma-grinning all the way down the walkway. Without warning my date came to a sudden and complete halt. His face held a look of sheer epiphany. Instantaneously I noticed tiny beads of sweat appear on his forehead. His palms became cold and clammy. I could literally see his underarm perspiration start to seep through his ultra fitted, one-size-does-NOT-fit-all Affliction shirt. “Can we take your car?” I heard him stammer. I informed him that I hadn’t had time to get gas after I had left work and proceeded to walk to his truck. He very hesitantly opened my door for me all while continuing to have the look of absolute distress plastered all over his face. As I crawled into the cab of his truck I glanced over my shoulder and there in the back seat sat not one, not two, but three apparatuses that were manufactured to hold ones offspring. As he sheepishly entered the vehicle I asked him who the car seats belonged to…at which point he awkwardly revealed that he did indeed have three kids.
If your date doesn’t bother mentioning (before date #12!) that he has children…UNDATABLE!
oh noooo!! haha wow...
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