Did I tell you what Hubby got me for Valentine’s Day? I didn’t think so. We’re not big on Valentine’s gifts because...well, we just aren’t. We usually make some kind of effort, though. However, with the ice storm, power outage, Hula working 120 hours of overtime mess, we kind of forgot about it until last Friday night, when the conversation went something like this:
Hubby: “Hey, tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”
Hula: “Really?! Hmmm. I guess it is.”
Hubby: “Are we doing anything?”
Hula: “Um, what do you WANT to do?”
Hubby: Sigh. “I say we forget about it and just not worry about it.”
Hula: “Suits me.”
Hubby: “Are you making popcorn?”
And with that, we settled on doing nothing, except exchanging cards. It’s an unspoken deal that we always get each other a card. Well, except for that whole first Mother’s Day bawling my hormonal eyes out oh my God you didn’t get me a card what do you mean I’m supposed to get you a card she’s only a baby incident. But that’s another post.
And in my card on Saturday was proof that Hubby knows me well, and always remembers the little things. Inside was one of these. And what does an Easter egg have to do with Valentine’s Day you ask? Well, at the neighborhood drug store where Hubby buys all of his cards, they sell those little Russell Stover marshmallow candies every holiday. For years he has bought me a pumpkin at Halloween, a Santa at Christmas and a strawberry heart on Valentine’s Day. Only this time they were out of hearts by the time he got around to the card. Apparently, he gave the ladies behind the counter, all of whom he has wrapped around his finger, the woe is me I ALWAYS get her a strawberry heart whine, and they broke out the Easter eggs they were holding under the counter for Feb. 15th. And that is how I got a 49 cent Easter egg for Valentine’s Day, which made me just as happy as a bouquet of roses because you would have had to flip my tired butt out of the recliner with a spatula just for me to sit up and sniff them. I can eat lying down.
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