Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Romance Knows No Bounds.

In fairness to the DNB, he did work a half-day on Valentine's Day.

In fairness to my womanly feelings of neglect, he was left with 12 additional hours of free time during which he could have, say, shoveled the sidewalk or BOUGHT ME A VALENTINE'S CARD.

Saturday morning, I set everything up in the kitchen. I dumped the Starburst bag out onto the counter and carefully removed the oranges. He hates the oranges the way I hate the reds. I signed his card and sealed it, attaching to the front the Conversation Heart that read "Ream."

When the DNB got home and walked into the kitchen, he smiled sheepishly.

"Ummm, I'll have your Valentine's stuff . . . later," he said.

I wasn't terribly surprised.

"It's just . . . " he tried to explain. "I was going to . . . and then . . . I just . . . ."

I raised my eyebrows.

"But if I can remember when Sweetest Day is," he mustered chivalrously, "I'll probably definitely get you a card."

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