Mumstrife

By Emma Thompson

Second Date Shenanigans: A Night of Popcorn, Dumplings, and Butterflies 

Dating as a mom of three is like playing a high-stakes game of Tetris—except the pieces are babysitters, dinner prep, and making sure no one has a meltdown five minutes before I leave.

But somehow, the stars aligned, the universe gave me a break, and I found myself on my second date with Ryan.

He picked the movie, I picked dinner. A fair trade. Though, sitting in a dark theater with an absurdly large bucket of popcorn, watching explosions go off every three minutes, I started questioning my life choices.

Not my usual pick, but honestly? Watching Ryan pretend not to jump at the surprise fight scenes was more entertaining than the movie itself.

Halfway through, our hands kept accidentally brushing in the popcorn bucket. Once. Twice. By the third “accident,” it was obvious—he wasn’t just reaching for the popcorn. And, well… I wasn’t exactly moving my hand away either.

After the movie, we wandered down the street to my favorite little Chinese restaurant, a tiny, no-frills place where the garlic and soy sauce hit you before you even step inside.

The kind of spot where you don’t need a menu because you already know exactly what you’re getting.

Except I decided to be bold. Show off my refined taste. Ordered soup dumplings.

If you’ve never eaten a soup dumpling on a date, let me just say: don’t.

I picked one up, took a bite, and immediately had scalding hot broth explode all over my chin. Full-on dumpling disaster.

Ryan—bless him—tried to keep a straight face. Failed miserably.

“You did that on purpose to break the ice, didn’t you?” he teased, smirking over his kung pao chicken.

“Obviously,” I said, dabbing at my face with far more napkins than should ever be necessary.

Despite my tragic dumpling technique, conversation flowed like we’d known each other for years.

He told me about his childhood summers in Spain, how his parents still live near Barcelona, and how his mom would probably adopt me if I ever visited.

I told him about the time I tried to assemble IKEA furniture alone and ended up with something that looked like a modern art sculpture.

Then the fortune cookies arrived.

I cracked mine open, half expecting something profound. Instead, it read: Big changes are coming.

I glanced at Ryan, who was still grinning at me like I was the funniest person he’d met in years.

And I felt it. That weird, unexpected pull.

The one that tells you this might not just be another date.

Walking back to our cars, he reached for my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I let him.

Maybe, just maybe, this was turning into something real.

And at the very least, I knew he wouldn’t judge me when the next rogue dumpling struck.