For Valentine's one year, I made up a beautiful basket for my (first) husband. I smelled every scent of men's cologne at the fancy dept. store before choosing one. Bought him his favorite candies--Jelly Bellies and gourmet chocolate. Put in some neat little handheld games and puzzles. Some gift cards for restaurants and car washes. Added a coupon book for "special nights," massages, etc.
After I gave him this lovely basket, he quickly said he had to go out. I KNEW he'd forgotten a gift for me. No big deal. I busied myself with the kids and chores. Time passed. LOTS of time passed. Four hours later he returned. Handed me a pink Rubbermaid laundry basket. "Happy Valentines Day! I know you're always needing more clothes baskets!"
Just one reason, among many, that he became my ex--aka The Asshole. I've been remarried for nearly 9 years now and my husband always teases me with a household gift--a set of Calphalon cookware, espresso machine with all the accessories, a gas range, etc.--among my Christmas gifts. A nod to the pink laundry basket.
I didn't think anything could top that. I was wrong.
Happy Fucking Birthday, Love Veronica. And what's-her-name. And what's-her-name. Oh, and let's not forget the very young Mexican pole dancers.
Though, is it really a "gift" when something--big chunks of my heart--is taken away?
I actually did get a gift for my birthday. Kait gave me the newest Barenaked Ladies CD wrapped in a whole package of tissue paper, inside a pretty gift bag. The card...
front
inside
Yeah. Too bad for us.
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