My husband took me to dinner last night for Valentine's Day. It was lovely. Cheese, meat, and chocolate fondue until you can't take it anymore. He even got me a card.
Not a big deal,right? Well, the last card he got me was on my birthday and 1. He forgot to sign it 2. He forgot to give it to me and 3. He forgot to take it out of the bag. He's wonderful in many ways, but spontaneous romance (or one that involves milling around the Hallmark section of the grocery store) isnt his forte.
But the card was sweet and thoughtful. He wrote that he loved his 'quirky, lovable, brilliant, creative, and inspiring wife.' I melted. Not sure what or why but those words got to me. Like, he saw the best in me and I knew it.
As a side note, I did try and get him something from Victoria's Secret for Valentine's Day (and wow, I just realized the acronym for that is VD which might have been appropriate during some age) but the corsets they tried to sell me pushed my middle in, while doubling my bottom and tripling my chins. Although Im sure darling husband wouldn't have minded, I have that image of the beautiful sales girl trying to tell me I looked 'amazing' (when we both knew I didn't) forever, and ever.
Oh well. That's married love, I suppose.
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