Random acts of kindness

It’s Christmas Eve! And only about 87 more days until Dave and I get married. I'm happy to say that I am quite in love, and perhaps visibly so. Evidence of this came in the form of someone (the great mysterious someone) who bought us dinner last night because, in the words of our waiter, "We were enjoying ourselves so much. And they wanted to spread Christmas cheer a little early." In fact, in some parts of our conversation we did discuss how happy and comfortable we felt around each other. (Just being honest.) But of course, our conversation ranged through various topics as well.
After the shock wore off, and accepting the waiter's insistence that the gift remain anonymous, we began hypothesizing. First, no one could have known that we were there because Dave couldn't even remember the name of the restaurant...he just knew where it was. And we definitely didn't know anyone at the restaurant. I remain convinced that it truly was another table, while I’m sure Dave still thinks it was actually the waiter/ restaurant, but we shall just agree to disagree because we will never know.
And either way, even as I write about this, I can’t help giggling as I replay the evening through the eyes of an on-looker. What was it about us that persuaded them to buy our dinner? (Even if they are wealthy folks that just do this from time to time.) Maybe it was our careful examining of purple splotches on the tablecloth: the difference between the drops of wine dried into the white paper and the fallen beet smears. After that followed our habitual food swapping, each time Dave bringing his plate increasingly closer to me as it was quickly evident that I was practically incapable of getting the food from the plate to my mouth without first dumping it on the table. (Yes, the fallen beets were my fault.) Maybe it was simply his attentiveness and quick smile. Perhaps it was the pleasant and careful way we discussed our grandparents, or when we both leaned closer across the table as I told him how he helped me be the best version of myself. Or our congenial dessert debate?
We probably also looked very happy--or in my case, just quite pleased with myself--as I retold some of our new family word jokes. It started with one I made up on the spot: What do you call a prank to steal the pickled buds from a Mediterranean plant often used for seasoning? A caper caper! (Ok, not so funny. But at least you can figure out the inspiration.) But that brought me around to some other new ones for which I cannot take credit. First, what do you call the mercy killing of a young person traveling in the world's largest and most populous continent? I bet you can guess this one...youth in asia euthanasia. And I hope that I don't offend the sensibilities of some of my readers, but I'm sure that what clinched it for our anonymous hosts was our reaction to the second one: what do you call a faux bowel movement? Shampoo.