Thursday, April 2, 2009
What a little guilt can get ya
Yesterday, 1 April, was not only Practical Joke Day (which I don't get because everyone knows it's coming) but it was also the 4th anniversary of meeting Neal in the Heathrow Airport in London, England. If you don't have the full story on that, I'll buy you a pitcher of margaritas and spin you a story...but for those of you who know - yay for anniversaries! Um, or so I thought. Neal is sort of like a girl - and by that I mean, he remembers ALL of the special occasions. He remembers the first time we met, our first kiss (which is only because it was shortly after the first event), the day he proposed, etc. And while we don't celebrate all of those things, he has never ceased to commemorate 1 April and 22 September. Even from a desert in the middle of the armpit of the Universe, he still managed to send something from Red Envelope for our first meeting. I still have every card and a couple of fozen roses to prove it. Yesterday was a bad day for him. It started too early (6:15 am at the gym with a sleepy grumpy wife on the elliptical next to him), continued all day and ended with dinner at iChing with a friend and a showing of "Ghostbusters" on the big screen. I greeted him at dinner with a cute Fresh Ink card and a luggage tag that says "Steal my luggage, do my laundry" to A) celebrate our first trip together and B) give him something that sounds like something he would totally say. He smiled, kissed me and then we had eggrolls. Fast forward to last night when we were laying in bed and I was STILL waiting for my anniversary gift. "So, nothing? REALLY?" I asked. To which he said, "I didn't have time." Oh. If you are a man reading this right now, file THAT into your little rolodex of things never to say. I'm not sure what ensued - I think I blacked out. But this morning, I had a dozen flowers with my coffee. Still no card and they weren't roses...something one step up from carnations, I think. So, I will be borrowing the credit card and shopping for some jewelry next week. And as much as he wants to complain, he who sets the precedent is doomed to follow it.