A truly magical and singular thing happened last Sunday: James and I both woke up an hour before our alarms.

A typical Sunday around our home is restful, a true Sabbath of relaxation, family, and worship. But a typical Sunday morning around here is the exact opposite. We hit the snooze way too many times, dash around frantically getting ready for church, never manage to get breakfast, drive just a little too fast to church, linger in the parking lot to hear the end of “Wait,wait, don’t tell me,” and then frantically dash into church,  hoping to snag a stray muffin left over from the Sunday school crowd, a plot which NEVER works.

But last week? Last week we both woke up unprovoked an hour before the alarm, sun streaming through the blinds and the whole day ahead of us. We rolled over in bed and decided to go on a date. A reckless, pre-church, Sunday morning bagel date at Bullfrog Bagels.  Instead of our usual frantic Sunday morning dash, we started our day with bagel sandwiches, newspapers and magazines, and each other. Admittedly, we then got cut off in traffic, missed an exit, and ended up still doing the mad dash into church, but it had been preceded by a calm bagel date with my favorite man.

This is how dates have to look right now. Stolen moments, seized from busyness and careful planning. I’m maintaining a strict study schedule until my exams (15 days, but who’s counting?), and that means there aren’t many free nights for evenings out on the town. “Dates” lately have been Netflix on the couch at the end of a long day, cleaning the house while we watch college basketball, and taking quick walks around our neighborhood.

They’ve been dates that fly under the radar of busyness, that don’t require much preparation, that don’t need reservations or advance notice. They’ve been bagels before our alarms go off. And I’m not complaining at all. Learning to make dating each other a part of everyday hectic life seems like a pretty good idea.

Also, bagels. Those always seem like a good idea.