Some people dream of candlelit dinners, moonlit walks, and expensive weekends away. Meanwhile, Jeff and I are over here turning Costco errands, hot dogs, and automotive confusion into a surprisingly solid marriage strategy.

Honestly? I think we cracked the code.

Jeff and I have regular date nights, which feels pretty darn cool after 37 years of marriage. Somewhere along the way — about a year or two ago… or “the other day” in neurospicy marriage time — we ended up creating what is now officially known as “Costco Date Night.”

One Friday evening after Jeff got home from work, we headed to Costco to get some shopping done. Nothing glamorous. Just regular life stuff. We grabbed what we needed, then stopped at the food court before heading home. As we sat there eating dinner and talking, Jeff smiled at me and said, “This is the perfect date. I take you shopping and dinner.”

We laughed way harder than we probably should have, but honestly, he was right. It was the perfect date.

Not because we were doing anything extraordinary. Not because it was fancy or romantic in the traditional sense. It was perfect because we were together, enjoying each other’s company, talking, laughing, and simply being present with each other. Somewhere along the line, people started believing joy has to be expensive, curated, filtered, or worthy of a social media highlight reel. Meanwhile, real life is over here quietly reminding us that connection often happens in the middle of ordinary moments.

And holy shift, isn’t that the truth.

So Costco Date Night became a thing for us. Because life is already full of responsibilities, errands, appointments, chores, and endless adulting nonsense. Why not turn some of it into something enjoyable? A grocery trip can still be connection. A shared errand can still be quality time. One thing does not cancel out the other.

Yesterday was another one of our wildly glamorous Friday night adventures. First stop: the Costco gas station because Persephone needed fuel. Now, for context, Persephone is my 2026 Honda Odyssey Elite — my TARDIS on wheels — and apparently she also comes with lessons in humility and problem-solving.

I was driving because… well… I can now, which still feels kind of miraculous some days. Jeff hopped out to pump the gas because he is, in fact, the awesomestest. He walked over to the gas tank door, pushed on it to open it and… nothing. He pushed again. Still nothing.

At first, we thought maybe the car had to be running, so I turned the engine back on. Nope. Still locked. Turned it back off. Still nothing. At this point, we were both getting mildly frustrated while simultaneously questioning our intelligence and the engineering choices behind modern vehicles.

The Odyssey doesn’t have a gas tank release button like the Lexus did, so we were both standing there trying to figure out what magical sequence of events needed to happen for the thing to open. Finally, I opened my driver-side door so I could lean out and tell Jeff, “I have absolutely no clue why this stupid thing won’t open.”

And suddenly…

click.

The gas lid unlocked.

Because apparently — and this is information Persephone might have wanted to communicate a little sooner — the driver-side door needs to be open for the gas lid to unlock.

We both just stood there laughing at ourselves in the middle of the Costco gas station like two exhausted humans who had just lost a battle against a tiny metal door.

And honestly? That moment felt weirdly important too.

Not every lesson in life arrives wrapped in some giant transformational breakthrough. Some lessons are deep and painful and life-changing. Others are simply reminders that we get to choose how we respond when things go sideways. We could have turned that whole moment into irritation and frustration. We could have snapped at each other, gotten grumpy, or carried the annoyance into the rest of the evening.

Instead, we laughed.

Then we went shopping. Then we had our Costco dinner date. Then we came home with bulk snacks, paper towels, and another story we’ll probably laugh about for years.

Life keeps moving regardless. Problems happen. Awkward moments happen. Gas tank doors rebel against humanity. But somewhere in the middle of all of it, we still get to choose how we experience the moment.

And maybe that’s part of the secret.

Not every meaningful memory comes from the big milestones. Sometimes the best moments are built quietly in the middle of ordinary life, when nobody is trying to impress anyone anymore and love simply looks like shared laughter under fluorescent lighting while holding a $1.50 hot dog combo.

Honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Perspective Shift

Sometimes happiness is not hiding in some future perfect moment. Sometimes it’s already sitting beside you at Costco laughing because neither of you can figure out how to open the gas tank.

Maybe that’s the real magic of life.

Not the perfectly planned moments. Not the fancy stuff. Not the highlight reel.

Maybe it’s the laughter in the middle of ordinary Tuesdays, Costco date nights, stubborn gas tank doors, and the people who make even the mundane feel meaningful.

Life gets heavy enough. Don’t forget to laugh while you’re living it.

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And sometimes we just need someone to remind us that we are not alone in this wonderfully weird human experience.