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For a few hours, we didn’t have to be Mom or Dad, we didn’t have responsibilities, and didn’t have any of the day-to-day worries that usually plague our relationship.We were , I thought, those familiar feelings filling me up again. I can’t wait to see what he has planned for next week!

My husband kept trying to guess what we were doing, but no dice.Here is me with my giddy face on, getting ready to drive him to the super-secret location… A visit to the Splatter Room at a cool little place called Pinspiration in Phoenix. He could say he’s excited and still look like he does when he’s watching the news.We started giggling, and then when one of my paint brush heads broke off mid-throw and smacked against the canvas leaving a giant splotch, we started laughing so hard we could barely breathe.Of all the things I know to be therapeutic, I had no idea that flinging paint would be one of them.But the investigating officer, Sergeant Marlon Appollis, had told the court that no one matching the accused's description of the axe man had ever been found.

He used police informants and media houses without success to try and find the attacker.

Then we were brought to a back room where there was literally paint covering every surface of every wall. The lady who had been helping us turned off the lights, and all of a sudden there were black lights and a disco ball and the paint was Party time!

We started off a little shy, but in no time we were launching paint across the room onto our canvas.

) and I decided to tell my husband what was next – dinner at a little place nearby we’d never tried.

On the inside, I was hoping it was as good as the reviews said it was because I really wanted to keep this momentum going.

It was We randomly decided to each draw a heart right in the middle, and decided our masterpiece was finished.