Thursday, July 7, 2005

A Fine Romance: Teaching my husband how to be romantic

Posted by kuri, ping, the pinglet, & mini-ping on 7/07/2005
"So, what do you want for Christmas this year?" I ask.

He looks up from his paper and says, "Shoes."

"Shoes," I repeat.

"Shoes," he says.

"Alllllrrrrrrrrightyyyy," I say doubtfully. Well, if it's what he wants, then that's what I'll get him, I think to myself.

"So what do you want for Christmas?" he asks, now back buried in his paper.

Little does he know the answer he will be getting..."A diamond solitaire," I say innocently.

Silence...maybe he hasn't heard me.

"A what?" he says.

"A diamond solitaire," I repeat.

He thinks for a minute and his face lights up as he gets a good idea. "OK, you should go to the stores while you are in New York for the after-Christmas sales, pick out and buy the necklace yourself, and then I will pay you back when we come back to Japan. That would be the best way to do it."

Silence. Did he just say he would pay me back for my own Christmas present?!?

He glances at me with a look of confusion on his face. "What?!?" he demands.

"Sweetheart, I love you but at times you make me crazy. Purchase the necklace myself??? Ha! I want you to buy it, wrap the box yourself, give it to me with flowers and chocolate, and write me a nice love letter to go with the gift."

He looks at me with a confused expression on his face. "Why do you need a letter when we live in the same house and you know that I love you? Why do you need flowers if they are only going to die in a few days? Why do you want chocolate? You are always on a diet so what good would it do to have it in the house?" He goes back to his paper. Discussion closed.

OK, I can see his point. But...but...but..., I start to stutter and realize it's a lost cause. How could I--brought up on Hollywood movies and Grimm's fairytales--have married someone so practical--brought up on...umm...Godzilla??? Where are the roses and chocolates, candlelit dinners, surprise mini-breaks?

As these thoughts race through my head, he looks up from his paper again. He is saying something about applying for a transfer to New York City for two years, a position that he has repeatedly said he doesn't want to take.

"Why?" I ask excitedly, not that I care about the reason.

"I thought it would make you happy," he says simply, and returns to his paper.

Happiness explodes in my heart; tears fall from my eyes. He does love me and he is a romantic.

2 of you feeling verklempt. Tawlk amongst yourselves:

Mom said...

You both are romantics!

Karen said...

They always keep you guessing don't they!!!!


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