Hairless Memento
Things I've stopped doing after 6 years of marriage:
Color coordinating his sock drawer
Folding his underwear
Making a big Sunday dinner
Sitting on the same couch as him when company comes over (I make sure to sit in the dirty armchair lest one of our guests feels obligated to sit there instead)
Snuggle in sacrament meeting at church
Share his bathroom
Share a blanket
Play X-Box with him
Give him foot rubs
Don't get me wrong - we love each other more than ever, but it's turning into that creepy kind of college roommate love where you can throw a gigantic screaming fit and the other person just sits back with the popcorn and a grin. It's a safer place than sheer romantic love and we abuse it endlessly since we know the other person isn't going anywhere.
Spike's Valentine's Day card to me this year was a ridiculous reminder of our fermented adoration of each other. Gone are the days when I need a box of chocolate to remind me that my husband digs me. Yesterday I received this card:
Inside was the pre-printed inscription, "Thinking of You" with Adum's handwritten note below:
The lady on the front represents you, and her cancer represents pregnancy, and health represents you having the baby. Other than that, it's pretty self-explanatory.
I gave him a postcard of eight chimpanzees drinking beer.
I wasn't sure if Spike could ever beat the card he gave me a few years ago. It was a simple picture of a fish with "fish" written in braille beneath it. That one said:
Dear Hollywood, I love you lots and lots. This card is in braille too, just in case you went blind today.
Our Valentine's Day cards may as well read, "Do you really need this stupid card? You know I'm crazy about you, but I know that if I don't get you a card you'll make me do the dishes tonight." This, my friends, is a great relationship. One of these years we'll get really brave and forgo the cards altogether. But this year I got a cheerful, bald cancer patient to remind me that it's okay never to fold his underwear again. We're past that.
Color coordinating his sock drawer
Folding his underwear
Making a big Sunday dinner
Sitting on the same couch as him when company comes over (I make sure to sit in the dirty armchair lest one of our guests feels obligated to sit there instead)
Snuggle in sacrament meeting at church
Share his bathroom
Share a blanket
Play X-Box with him
Give him foot rubs
Don't get me wrong - we love each other more than ever, but it's turning into that creepy kind of college roommate love where you can throw a gigantic screaming fit and the other person just sits back with the popcorn and a grin. It's a safer place than sheer romantic love and we abuse it endlessly since we know the other person isn't going anywhere.
Spike's Valentine's Day card to me this year was a ridiculous reminder of our fermented adoration of each other. Gone are the days when I need a box of chocolate to remind me that my husband digs me. Yesterday I received this card:
Inside was the pre-printed inscription, "Thinking of You" with Adum's handwritten note below:The lady on the front represents you, and her cancer represents pregnancy, and health represents you having the baby. Other than that, it's pretty self-explanatory.
I gave him a postcard of eight chimpanzees drinking beer.
I wasn't sure if Spike could ever beat the card he gave me a few years ago. It was a simple picture of a fish with "fish" written in braille beneath it. That one said:
Dear Hollywood, I love you lots and lots. This card is in braille too, just in case you went blind today.
Our Valentine's Day cards may as well read, "Do you really need this stupid card? You know I'm crazy about you, but I know that if I don't get you a card you'll make me do the dishes tonight." This, my friends, is a great relationship. One of these years we'll get really brave and forgo the cards altogether. But this year I got a cheerful, bald cancer patient to remind me that it's okay never to fold his underwear again. We're past that.
Comments
"You want some breakfast?"
"You're going to make breakfast?"
"Well, if you want."
"How 'bout I take you through McDonald's...it's Valentines Day ya know."
"k"
Later on he came home early from work and we went through Jack in the Box and shared a coke while we talked in the parking lot. AFter a few minutes I said:
"You want your present?"
"Oh crap, I didn't get you anything"
"I'll live. Besides I bought something we can both use."
At that point I gave him 2 fishing licenses.
He was a great catch. And yeah, we still got it, but without all the gooshy stuff.
So V-day evening-we went home with some take-out from Buca Di Beppo. Jake went out for sodas--he was gone for a long time but I was fine nibbling my dinner until he returned. When he got back he called me out to look at 4 shining new hubcaps on our little car that he had installed himself. As he showed me his proud work, he said, "this shows how much I love you because you didn't even have to nag me to do it."
Yeah, we've been married 6 years, too.
S'mee-Sitting in a fishing boat not talking to each other, sounds a lot more romantic to me than sitting in front of the tube not talking to each other.
Suzie-What?! He didn't like the "I'm glad your straight" tribute? What's up with that?
Azcar-Me too.
ang- Buca di Beppo. I love that place. I like how they walk you through the kitchen before they seat you. We make total pigs of ourselves when we go there.
Hey, wait a minute, this isn't my blog. Sorry, Sarah... a little force of habit happening here, repsonding to the commenters comments.
This year for Vday my hubby was gone all day to work and school. When he got home, we took some NyQuil and tried to sleep off our colds. Aren't we romantic too?