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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I get embarrassed just thinking about this one.
I was with my husband on a trip in Niagara Falls. We had been on the Canadian side and were about ready to cross back over to the US side. As we were going through customs my husband was driving our large truck and he pulled slowly to the window where the guard was standing.
The guard looks at my husband and says, “What is your nationality?” My husband spouts off “Ohio” (state changed to protect the innocent LOL).
The guard looks a bit irritated and says again, “What is your nationality?” My husband is clearly confused at this point and looks toward me for advice…I said under my breath, “Tell him you are AMERICAN!!!” The whole time I was thinking, “Oh my gosh.
They are going to pull out the SWAT team on us any moment. We are not going to get back across the border!!” I will NEVER forget the expressions on the guards face, my husband’s or the lovely feeling as we finally crossed safely back into the US.
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.
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.
A few years ago my husband was out of town on business for our anniversary. He said he’d gotten something for me on his trip. He’d come back in town late so we went to lunch the next day. As we leave his office together, his assistant hands him a plastic bag. She was trying to be discreet but I saw it. When it’s time to exchange gifts, he pulls a card and gift out of the same bag his assistant handed him. I know the store where the gift was purchased. There isn’t a store where he was on trip. He didn’t buy anything on that trip! He had his assistant buy my gift and tried to pass it off as his handiwork.
My husband had spent the day at a conference. He was tired, but it was “date night,” and he agreed to meet me at a new restaurant on Las Olas Boulevard.
When we sat down, the waitress came over to take our drink order. He was wearing one of those giant nametags—the ones that say, “Hello, My Name is________”
The waitress took my drink order, winked at me, and turned to my husband and said, “Mike, what can I get you?”
He was a bit taken aback. “Uh. I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”
As the waitress walked away, I leaned in and said, “Mike, how do you KNOW her?”
“I don’t!” he exclaimed. “Uh…I…uh…I don’t know how she knew my name.”
“Really? You have never met her?” I could hardly contain my amusement.
The waitress appeared a few seconds later with our drinks. She was flirting with him at this point, clearly making Mike even more uncomfortable.
After she set his drink down, we both looked at him and simultaneously pointed to his nametag. I think Mike’s reaction was a combination of slight annoyance and utter relief.
As I walked into the front door of our house after getting home from work, Chris walked up to me and gave me a big hug. He gets home before I do usually.
“Hey Kara, how was your day,” he asked. “Busy,” I replied. “I’m glad I’m finally home so we can get everything taken care of for our barbecue tomorrow and have some time to relax.”
“Yeah, we can watch a chick flick or something. Well, you can watch one and I’ll sit with you and pretend that I’m watching while I’m really probably just going to fall asleep.” I laughed at him and playfully pushed him away.
“Did you remember to get my soap at the store,” Chris asked.
I looked at him with a look of shame and said, “Oh my goodness, I forgot all about going to the store! I am so sorry. I’ll go back and get it.” Chris smirked and said, “I thought you might forget. It’s okay. I’ll just use yours tonight and smell a little fruity tomorrow for the barbecue. It’s better than smelling bad!” We agreed to this and began the process of marinating our steaks for the next day.
When we woke up the next morning, Chris rolled over and sleepily said, “Your soap made my skin tingle when I used it, and now it feels weird.” I said, “It’s supposed to tingle. It’s exfoliating” as I chalked Chris’ statement up to the fact that he had never used girly soap before and thought nothing of it.
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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.
A few years ago, I decided to throw a surprise 50th birthday party for John. I had been moderately successful for his big-3-0 and the scary-4-0, so I was worried that he might be expecting something. I had to get creative. His birthday is in January, and mine is in November.
VIOLA! I would throw HIS party on MY birthday, that way I could “fake plan” the worst night of his life, and then surprise him with the party of his dreams.
Now, you have to know that while John is a mostly wonderful husband, he’s a total guy kind of guy– a die hard fan of ESPN, “his” Giants, and cigars. He LOVES cigars. Luckily, we don’t live that far from Manhattan, which is a cigar mecca. For his birthday, I would find a cigar bar, invite twenty of our closest friends, rent a black jack table, and celebrate Macanudo-style.
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Last night my husband finally decided to do the cooking (it’s only been 20 years of marriage for him to make this offer). He’d been resisting of course as his culinary skills are terrible. He’d sooner throw the can of beans at the wall before figuring out that he could open the drawer for a can opener.
So, in his first attempt ever in the kitchen, he started by getting out a recipe book.
He got a saucepan, stuck it on the burner, and lit it.
What next? Oh, yes, fry the chicken. Did he chop it up? No, it was bloody terrible. You’d think that he would see how burnt it became but ALSO no. He added the spices and the sauce and attempted to stir.
He was meant to use Cous Cous. However, being a bloke, this wasn’t an option so he replaced my beautiful idea of a romantic meal with CHIPS!
Needless to say, the meal looked like what it should have been an hour after I digested it, brown, sticky, and pretty awful.