My son spent the night with his friend last night, leaving me and Darling Man alone to twiddle our thumbs and wonder how the boy was doing.
Thankfully, that only lasted a few minutes.
Then, we had a conversation.
A real conversation.
It's funny how you can live with someone, eat with someone, share raising a child with someone - and yet, while you're doing all these things, you don't talk.
You share information about dentist appointments and ask what's for dinner. You mention that the dog needs a walk or that someone needs to start calling for roofing estimates. You ask for help reaching something up high or yell for a hand when you're about to drop something heavy.
But you don't really talk.
Last night, with no child hanging around to interrupt or need something every two seconds, Darling Man and I got to talk about music, and movies, and philosophy. We talked about the contrasts and similarities between our chosen martial arts. We talked about books we've been reading.
It was nice. Very nice.