My beef with romantic steak dinners

To honor our anniversary on Tuesday, we went out for a romantic meal at Gaucho last night.

Scott, being the meat lover that he is, had been looking forward to the meal all week. He ordered the largest steak on the menu, the 400g fillet. Rare.

Halfway through the meal, I found myself looking at him and thinking about our wedding day.

I had told Scott on our wedding day that I would be giving a bridesmaid a card to deliver to him before the ceremony. I had the card stuffed in the bottom of my bag, under the hairspray, perfume, clear nailpolish, Band-Aids, sewing kit, deodorant, etc – all the essentials of a bridal emergency kit. But I was so nervous on the day and I was late to the church because the limo driver was late. And I was panicking when we got there and didn’t have any time to compose myself, nevermind give him the card I said I would. I felt awful about that and even worse when a bridesmaid thrusted a card into my hands. “It’s from Scott.”

The card was filled with all the things you hope your future husband will say and it ended with See you at the altar.

I had 30 seconds to scan the card and I was still so nervous when the doors were about to open and I was going to walk down the aisle. But I thought about the card and what he wrote and I realized I wasn’t nervous. I was overwhelmed and that’s not always a bad thing.

Two years later and here we are. I’m looking at Scott, smiling, remembering. I’m about to tell him I still get that “overwhelmed” feeling and I hope it never stops.

And he looks up from his steak and smiles back at me. Maybe he knows. Maybe I don’t have to say a thing.

Then he wipes his forehead and says, “Whew, I’m getting the meat sweats big time. Big time. “