It's a date.

Here we are on a date.

Precisely 23 minutes ago we. . .

1) wiped up peanut butter and twirly pasta from the four corners of the kitchen floor

2) introduced Phoebe to the brand-new baby-sitter

3) shattered and swept up broken glass from the bathroom tile

4) dodged the pee puddle by the bathtub

5) chased an un-diapered Phoebe down the hall

6) jammied, sang and said good-night prayers

. . .all before escaping out the door for a much-needed date. I wonder, is it weird that I was more concerned that the new sitter would be frightened away by our harried departure than I was concerned about leaving Phoebe with a near stranger?