Ah, that's the ticket.

Last night we went out.  Not a Mommy or Daddy in sight - it was just Jennifer and Peter with some friends.

We had tickets for The Christmas Show in town.  A gathering of musical, poetic and comic talent which included lots of recognizable local faces.  As soon as I heard about the show and saw the line up I knew it would be a great night out for Peter and me.  He came up with the idea of asking some friends to join us - a great idea because this is a small group that get together and jam on occasion (although I think that they'd like that "occasion" to be a little more frequent) and it offered the opportunity for the women to get visit too.

I left it to Peter to pick up our tickets so that there would be no chance of the event selling out.

He did.

Flash forward to last night.

We both worked all day.  He got home first so he took the kids to the arena for Sheldon's 6:15 hockey practice.  I rolled into town around 6:00 and went straight home to get a couple of things done before picking Juliana up from the arena at 6:30.  We went straight to pick up pizza for dinner, returned home, ate, and I changed my clothes to get ready to go.  Peter and Sheldon arrived home from hockey at 7:20, Peter threw back his pizza and went to get changed.  We wanted to leave by 7:30 so he had to move fast.  That's when I asked the question.

"Honey, have you got the tickets?"

I'll spare you the gory details of the next 25 minutes.  Suffice to say - he ripped through his truck, I checked all pockets of jeans and jackets that he would have worn recently.  They weren't on the bulletin board where these sorts of things are usually kept.  They weren't tucked in a cupboard or stuck in a pile.  They weren't on top of the washer or on the desk.  They were nowhere to be found.

What to do?  I borrowed some money from Sheldon so that we could purchase tickets at the door and while Peter was getting his shoes on I went out to the garage to see if I could spy any mystery bags - maybe he did some christmas shopping when he picked up the tickets and he stuck them in a bag?  A long shot given that Christmas is still 15 days away so the likelihood of Peter shopping so soon were very, very slim.  But standing on that step just inside the garage door what did I see?  Four little tickets staring at me.

On top of the garage refrigerator.  With 2 dog treats, a bin of crap, an empty garbage bag and can of spray paint.

Oy.

With eight minutes to spare we raced off to the Music Hall where, thankfully, our friends saved us two seats.

What followed was a fabulous evening - the show was ever so enjoyable, the drinks afterwards were ever so so enjoyable.  And I think that we shouldn't wait for another show to give us a reason for an evening out.

But if we do decide on another show.......  I'll get the tickets.