>Flower Pouter


We have very little dinero and a special meal is a treat. V-day was looking especially bleak until Mom came to the rescue with lobster claws from Sam’s club and all of the fixin’s: crusty French bread, butter, corn and a big ole bottle of Fancy Brut Champagne. I spent the day cleaning up the house and vamping up.  When Tennisfiend came home late, I was certain that he had been out selling newspapers so he could surprise me with a modest bouquet of flowers. For reasons completely unknown to me I was devistated when he came home empty handed.

I get flowers three times a year: Our anniversary, Women’s Day and Valentine’s Day. I know we don’t have the finances for frivolity. I realize TF is under enourmous pressure at work. I understand that we have other priorities now. But some tiny irrational piece or my brain took control and I pouted like a six year old. No flowers for me on Valentine’s Day, Whahhh!

For shame! I sucked it up and tried to hide my disappointment, but TF knows me too well. He made up a quick excuse, dashed out and returned with a battered but beautiful bunch of flowers. He gave me a big hug and apologized for being a lug. Heh. I was the real lug.

Thank You Moosh!

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