Yesterday was my wedding anniversary with The Hub. So instead of reading all your delicious blog posts, I was spending the day planning an ornate dinner that would metaphorically symbolize the peaks and valleys of our years together.
Which means, I let my son sculpt some peaks and valleys in the mashed potatoes.
And really, "ornate" is a relative term. I believe the scene would've looked similar to this:
[Scene: Morning of Anniversary. The Hub getting ready for work. Me, bleary eyed, alfalfa hair, AWESOME breath.]
Me: Let me make you some breakfast!
Hub: I'd love to, but I'm running late.
Me: How do silver-dollar pancakes...fresh orange juice, bacon and Kona coffee sound?
Hub: [Flashes surprised smile.] It sounds great.
[He sits in the dining room, waiting for his grand meal and sipping some coffee with the paper. I reappear, holding a cereal box.]
Me: Sorry. I didn't have those other things. [Pours milk.]
YES, yes, I plagiarized that entire scene. But I did add the stage directions.
Anyway, it was a lovely evening that left me strongly reminded of just how much my husband loves me. Because, I don't think just ANY man would buy the kind of gift that says "Yes, I know you're obsessed with a 19 year old girl and a 23 year old boy" and "No, I won't call the police."
The gift that's half "Aww, The Hub rocks" and half "Really Kristine? Really?"