Hey, kids! Guess what? Apparently, playing tag is bad for your self-esteem.
I don’t know who’s more screwed up: the adults right now who think that this is a good idea, or these kids when they become adults and realize that life ain’t fair. It’s like any other game—there are winners, and there are losers, else why bother keeping score? The fact is that not everyone is good at everything and should not be made to feel otherwise. If these kids grow up thinking the world should always be fair to them… oh boy, just wait til adulthood and the real world intervene.
Next up on the chopping block are hide-and-seek and Easter egg hunting, because these sadistic activities obviously discriminate against kids who just aren’t too terribly observant.
I take that back: It is the kids who are screwed. The adults are just politically correct idiots (“politically correct idiots”… a redundant phrase if there ever was one).
So for this anniversary, I figured I’d leave work, stop and pick up some flowers, and go home and whisk my sweetie away for a nice dinner somewhere in town. My sweetie had other plans…
When I got to my car to leave work, there was a note sitting in the seat. And another note on the dash, telling me to head to a room in the hotel next door. And, sure enough, a room key lay underneath the second note. Upon entering the room, I find a nice set of dinner clothes laid out on the bed for me to change into—and another couple of notes, including the one asking me to meet her downstairs for dinner.
And sure enough, on the elevator ride back downstairs, I see her sitting there, waiting for me. But her plan doesn’t end there, as we head out the door to make our dinner reservation—not at the hotel (obviously), but at Aquaterra Grill, a steak and seafood place that we’d driven by a number of times. Now I wish we’d stopped by sooner… *yum*.
Heel that I am, I never did manage to get her those flowers.
I am so completely out of my league here. :-)
How long it took to meet the girl of my dreams: 9,106 days (24 years, 11 months, 3 days)
How much longer we had to wait for The Kiss: 2,676 days (7 years, 3 months, 30 days)
How much longer still until I proposed to her: 343 days (11 months, 9 days)
…and longer still until we walked down the aisle: 350 days (11 months, 15 days)
How long it will take me to post some wedding pictures online: your guess is as good as mine (37 days and counting…)
“Some things in life, you just know will happen. For everything else, there’s Procrastination.”
In a season filled with memorable dates and anniversaries, here is yet another: On this date two years ago, I managed to steal a hug and a kiss from the woman who is now my wife. It would be your typical romance novel to say something like “if we only knew what that would lead up to”, but in all honesty, within a couple of days we both knew exactly what it would lead up to.
Two years later, it looks like we were both right. :-)
Yesterday was my sweetie’s birthday, so what did we end up doing? Going down to the Borders bookstore at Preston and Royal for a book signing by the Food Network’s Alton Brown (of “Good Eats”” fame). Now granted, I love his show (and by the way, after seeing and meeting him, he comes off as a genuinely friendly and funny guy), but since the signing didn’t start til 7:00, I was planning on skipping it entirely and instead having a nice, cozy dinner with my wife. Well, she had other plans. As she put it (paraphrasing), she knew that I wanted to make her happy, and this—doing something I wanted to do, even on her birthday—would make her happy. Is she the best, or what? Besides, one never argues with a birthday girl.
We did end up having that cozy dinner after the signing, though, at Giovanni’s, an intimate, family-run Italian place off of Preston. No Olive Garden cookie cutter stuff here, nosireebob—this was some darn good grub, and I’m sure we’ll be going back there again.
Oh, what did I get her? I got her a gift certificate… for a skydive jump from 10,000 feet or so. She’s funny that way. :-)
Happy Birthday, birthday girl! *BAWK!* *BAWK!*