Fly in the Ointment

I am NOT a big planner. Valentine's Day has always been my husband's territory up until now. This year, I decided to take matters into my own hands and be proactive, and PLAN a romantic dinner date. I called the swanky restaraunt, begged the Maitre d' for a favor (he was so AWESOME and got us in!) and then I proceeded to plan the evening, buy an outfit, get my hair done, etc.
Late last night I got a phone call, and the sitter (who I called several weeks before) cancelled with the flu.
I called the backup sitter. She'd been snatched up a few days before. I made several desperate phone calls (even promising to pay double) but to no avail. Every available sitter (even some of the ones I would drive 20 minutes away to pick up) was previously engaged to sit for someone else.
So, my lovely romantic evening plans went down the drain. I was upset about it last night, but this morning, after a pot of herbal tea and about a dozen mini Reeses Peanut Butter Hearts, things are feeling just fine. (I am beginning to suspect that Reeses Co. secretly inserts an ingredient into their peanut butter cups that makes unsuspecting consumers crave them constantly.)
So, we're opting for a night out with the kids. After all, we *love them too*. And after all again, there ARE three hundred and sixty-four other days to have a romantic dinner, right?

Darn it.