I woke up and went downstairs, expecting to see a Valentine’s Day card on the kitchen counter. Nothing. Flowers? Nope. Maybe a box of chocolates? Nada. Now, I know some of my friends aren’t that big on Valentine’s Day, but I am–and Pete, my husband, knows it—in fact, he actually proposed on February 14th because he knew how much the day means to me.
No Valentine? This was not good.
Hoping that he planned a secret surprise, I went ahead with my Valentine’s gift (breakfast in bed, a perfect card, and a gift certificate for an hour massage at his favorite spa). I brought everything upstairs, and he just smiled, kissed me and told me to wait. I still remember him saying, “It’s going to be great.”
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My three kids had been begging for a dog for years so this Christmas we finally caved in and decided to buy one. We spent three hours at a nearby shelter “interviewing” all the dogs. There were so many cute dogs, but there was one in particular that crawled into our hearts.
He was a beautiful, soft, golden retriever puppy. The kids were thrilled. We were told to wait until the next day so the dog could have his final checkup. I sent my husband to the shelter bright and early the next morning to pick up our new puppy.
When he got home, we all ran to the car to greet our new family member. To our huge surprise, we were not greeted by a golden retriever puppy but by some large animal that looked like a pit bull. You can imagine the hysteria from the kids. My husband didn’t understand….he said, “what do you mean, this is the same dog.”. We thought he was kidding but the look on his face was pure confusion.
When we not so calmly explained that this fierce looking pit bull type dog wasn’t even close to our cute little retriever puppy, he said he understood and rushed back to the shelter to pickup our dog. We ended up getting the right dog, but who confuses a mangy looking pit bull with a golden retriever puppy?
Exactly one year ago from today, I won two tickets to a mixed martial arts championship by giving the correct answer to a radio DJ’s trivia question about the show “I Love Lucy”. I told my husband, Mark, the news as soon as I got home from work. This was the day I found out that I had apparently married a martial arts guru. Mark began to excitingly rattle off information on the top fighters, and how he could take any of them in a one on one brawl.
While Mark was getting his testosterone fill during the fight, we had some downtime between matchups. Mark eyed a video game in the Coliseum’s arcade and decided to showcase his reflexes by playing a game of Dance Dance Revolution. Now mind you, my husband, has the reflexes of a senile bingo player. Watching my husband play a pre-pubescent teenager in a video game was priceless.
Fourteen rematches and five overpriced bottles of water later, Mark realized that maybe he wasn’t the young athlete he once used to be. On the ride home, I consoled him by reminding him that he outgrew video games a long time ago and there was no way he could out DDR a practiced 12 year old. I really got a chuckle out of Mark defending his outdated skills in video games and smack talking a 12 year old behind his back. Oh, and the mixed martial arts was fun too.
When my 30th birthday was coming up, I was getting excited but tried not to show it.
I figured with it being a bit of a milestone, my husband would be doing something extra special to make my day bright. He told me to make sure I could leave work early and meet him for dinner at our favourite restaurant. I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. We’d talked about going on an overseas trip so I thought maybe he’d be surprising me with this fantasy trip we’d talked about for so long. Well, we got to the restaurant and had a delicious meal. There was no mention of any trip or birthday present or anything during our conversation.
I started to think that maybe he hadn’t gotten me anything at all. But he assured me that he did have something special waiting for me in the car. We soon left the restaurant and were driving when he suddenly said he had to run an errand. He stopped the car at a hardware store and I just assumed he needed something for his job. But, no. That wasn’t it at all. When he got back in the car, he looked at me and said, “Happy Birthday. Enjoy.”
Then he tossed the bag over to me and I looked inside. There sitting in a paper bag was a shower head to replace the one that had broken in our bathroom! And to top it off, he looked so proud of himself. So now when my birthday rolls around, I keep my expectations low.
For our third wedding anniversary, my husband surprised me. He arranged our dinner out that night and the babysitter for our kids. I didn’t have to do anything but be ready at the appointed time. He picked a good restaurant and we had a lovely time. He told me my gift would be waiting at home and that I’d love it. As you can imagine, the excitement was almost too much to bear. We get home, I walk into our closet and sitting on the floor is my gift. A tie rack. Yep, a tie rack. He thought it’d be the perfect gift since I’m always complaining about his ties being everywhere. Now I can have the neat and organized closet I want. Sigh… yay.
For our anniversary, my husband and I decided to go out for a romantic dinner. When it came time to leave, my husband starting searching frantically for his keys.
“Where’d you leave them?” I asked, genuinely concerned. He usually leaves them on a ring in the kitchen but they were clearly not there. We looked everywhere in the house and my husband kept re-tracking his steps but to no avail.
We were now already an hour late for dinner so we just called and cancelled. We ended up ordering chinese food. My husband went upstairs to change out of his nice clothes and when he came down he had his keys in his hand. Before I could say anything, he looked at me sheepishly and said the keys were in his pocket the whole time. Thankfully we laughed.
My husband and I have been trying to avoid getting bored in our marriage by proactively taking steps to ensure that this doesn’t happen. We have been married 15 years. I am 40 and he is 46. One of the ideas that we came up with was to go dancing at a club like we did when we were younger.
We thought it would be fun to have a contest and see who gets “hit on” the most. We are both good looking for our age, but didn’t quite look like most of the young hip 20s crowd.
After about an hour (and more than a few cocktails), we had enough courage to split up and see who would “win” the bet.
I walked around a bit, saw some appreciative glances in my direction and even managed to get asked to dance. I was feeling pretty good until I saw my husband (with a big goofy grin on his face ) draped in the arms of a woman. Of course, I felt a little pang of jealousy that he so clearly won our bet, but figured fair is fair and let him have his moment of glory. After a few minutes, I strolled over to retrieve him from her clutches. She was very sweet and very pretty and my husband looked like he had just signed with the Yankees.
I told him it was time to go home (hubby looking very triumphant) but as we were walking away, she grabbed us. I thought she was gearing up for a fight, but she giggled and said, “thanks for loaning me your husband. I was trying to get away from a guy that was hitting on me so I told him that your husband was my protective Father and he better stay away.”
I couldn’t stop laughing the entire way home. As you can imagine, that was the last time we went to a club.
We have two cars. On the lower left-hand corner of each windshield, they have registration stickers and inspection stickers–right next to the local police supporter stickers. This is the standard sticker situation for everyone in NY.
I readily admit that I am not a car person. I don’t call the cars by their rightful branded names–I refer to them as the blue car and the black car. Car maintenance is Fred’s “job”. He washes the cars (periodically), takes the cars in for an oil change (when the reminder light becomes difficult to ignore), and sometimes even monitors the stickers’ expiration dates.
It was early February. The new registration sticker for the blue car had arrived in the mail. It sat on the “outgoing” counter, unnoticed, along with grocery coupons and other stuff for the car. It was the third Saturday in February, before I gently nudged Fred, “Can you please put the new registration on the car?
“Sure,” he said, “after the football game.”
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My husband and I had our first child recently. Our child had his first doctor’s appointment when he was a week old. We gathered his things and went to the appointment. After leaving the appointment, we gathered his things and returned home. I was still recovering from a C-section at the time. So, my husband was in charge of carrying the car seat for the time being. I got out of the car and shut the door. My husband got out of the car, pushed the door luck and shut the door. I just stared at him. He gave me one of those “What are you looking at me for?” looks.
I continued to stare at him and finally I asked him, “Did you forget something?” Eventually it hit him that he forgot to get the baby out of the back seat before locking the door. Needless to say he felt both embarrassed. Let’s just hope this doesn’t happen again.