Best V-Day yet – Photo: L. Weikel
V-Day Redemption
Today marks the 42nd Valentine’s Day Karl and I have celebrated together.
There’s no question Karl and I have been V-Day challenged since the inception of our relationship. Anyone reading this post can appreciate that Karl did not endear himself to me in that crucial first year Valentine’s Day pressure cooker. And while we did reach a détente by realizing that the very best V-Day gifts were those that were literary in nature, and we succeeded in making that a tradition for quite a while, many have nevertheless missed the mark.
This year, instead of going anywhere or doing anything even remotely related to Karl or our relationship, I had a session with a client. And this session entailed me driving a good distance away. As a result, I didn’t get home until just shy of 9:00 p.m.
Another Bust
Imagine my surprise to find the house empty when I got home.
“Hmmph,” I thought at first, when I pulled up and saw no cars in the driveway. “Maybe he went for pizza and wanted it to be piping hot when I got home.”
Not two minutes went by and Karl’s car pulled into our driveway.
I was standing in the living room, and through one of the windows could see him approaching the kitchen door. No pizza box in hand. The lack of same was striking and devastating.
In fact, from my perspective, it didn’t look as if he had anything in his hands. “Surely he brought home dinner,” I thought in a panic. I’ll admit it; I was pretty hungry at this point – and now expecting the worst. As usual.
Karl pushed open the door from our kitchen into our living room and flourished a small, unmarked paper bag with twine handles. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Karl grinned, flashing me the smile that won me over all those years ago (and has wheedled its way into my heart far too many times to count over the intervening years).
I still wasn’t comprehending what he’d brought home. Was it even food? That bag sure was small. For some reason, my mind had become fixated on pizza as I drove home – even though I’d actively decided against calling and suggesting it to him. I was still trying to figure out how any of this added up.
Sushi Extravaganza
It wasn’t until I opened the paper bag with its distinctive twine handles and looked inside that I realized: This man knows me. He knows (finally!) after all these years precisely what to bring home to make me feel completely loved and known and indulged.
Every layer I uncovered in the bag elicited a shriek of delight. His choices were particularly significant since I’m the one who places the order for sushi the at most couple of special occasions we order it during the year. Karl isn’t nearly as bowled over by mouthgasms as I am over sushi, so the fact that he took the time to print out Ooka’s menu and figure out which of the offerings were the ones that pave a direct path to my heart was an act of pure love. (And beyond the love credits awarded for making the effort to pick out my favorites he earned triple bonus word score extravaganza points for choosing all my favorites!)
Best of all, I was utterly happy coming home to my love and just planning on spending a quiet evening with him and all our beasts.
The extravagant overload of delectable sushi was a total redemption for any and all prior V-Day transgressions. I’m one happy little fridget* (wink) Love you, Karl.
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(T-651)