Back when this column started, it was called “Date Night.”

 

My now-husband always jokes: “I would take her out on Saturday and read about it in the paper on Thursday.” In retrospect, he was a real sport about the whole thing.

 

He has continued to perform his essential duties out in the world over the last couple of months while I’ve been teaching and writing from the comfort of our studio apartment. It’s hard not to give him a big hug the second he walks in the door, but like many couples navigating this crisis, we’ve fallen into a thorough routine of disinfection. We are both so lucky to be healthy.

 

Once he gives me the clear, I morph into an unruly puppy greedy for attention. I make absurd demands. My outfits get crazier by the day. Without the influence of the outside world, I am becoming completely and unabashedly — myself.

 

Here is a brief catalog of the nonsensical antics my husband has endured over the last week:

 

8:59 p.m. Sunday, April 27, 2020: My husband wants to watch “The Last Dance” on ESPN, but I inform him that it’s very important to my pop culture capital that I see the final episode of “Too Hot to Handle” immediately. We both agree that Irish Nicole should have gotten a better arc and neither of us know what it means to be a fridge-freezer lemon squeezer.

 

10:08 a.m. Monday, April 27, 2020: We were supposed to have arrived home from our Italian honeymoon early this morning, but for obvious reasons, we’re still in Worcester. I post to my story asking how I should DIY a special Italian night for my husband. My favorite responses include: 1.) Dress him up as Mario. 2.) Make him an iceberg salad with Ken’s Italian dressing. 3.) Bathe him in olive oil. He declines all three and suggests that, instead, we try to make pasta from scratch.

 

5:47 p.m. Tuesday, April 28, 2020: We decide to take a personality assessment that determines which television and movie characters you bear the most psychological likeness to. I get a tie between Tom Haverford from “Parks and Recreation” and Kelly Kapoor from “The Office.” He gets Alfred from “Batman.”

 

7 p.m. Wednesday, April 29, 2020: I’m engaged in a very important video chat with my college roommates about the proper way to spatchcock a chicken. I mean, what would Alison Roman do? My husband says he has to take an “important call for work,” but there’s no way I can learn to spatchcock with a bunch of politicians yammering on in the background. He offers to have his chat outside in the parking lot. Chivalry is not dead.

 

8:02 a.m. Thursday, April 30, 2020: I like to jump up and down on our bed and sing, “I-start-everyday-with-a-jump-on-the-bed. Yes-I-start-everyday-with-a-jump-on-the-bed. Jump-jump-jump. Yes-I-jump-on-the-bed.” To date, I haven’t been able to convince him to join me, but I suspect he’ll cave very soon.

 

7:19 p.m. Friday, May 1, 2020: I’ve been practicing “The Renegade” choreography for weeks, but all of the kids on TikTok have moved on and I still can’t keep pace. I made my husband sing “Fast Car” by Tracy Chapman while I performed the routine at a more reasonable tempo. This will definitely go viral. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.

 

6:23 p.m. Saturday, May 2, 2020: Today is my husband’s only day off this week. I asked him to take a photo of me wearing my best tie-dye jumpsuit. I kept yelling “TRIANGLES!” to encourage him to, as Drake would say, “hit them angles,” but he just wasn’t getting it. This went on in excess of 30 minutes before he told me he had to get something out of the car and disappeared for awhile.

 

9:02 a.m. Sunday, May 3, 2020: My husband woke up early to surprise me by making breakfast. Mid-meal, I challenged him to a game of Horse on our mini-basketball hoop. He was worried about breaking something, but I heckled him until he agreed to play. His winning shot knocked over a large glass of orange juice, soaking our sumptuous spread as well as his phone. He’s currently wiping it up, while I post a video of the mess to Instagram. I think I’m going to write about it for the newspaper, too. Allora!

 

In all seriousness, I could not be more grateful for the hard work and patience of our essential employees. Thank you a million times over. We love and appreciate you.