What’s love got to do with it?

Jump to Comments

Howdy, y’all.

I’m Janet. Usually I blog on my own Planet, but Holly gave me the keys to the joint so I could party while the folks are away entertain you while she is at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Holly and I are likethis, so I know she won’t mind if I tell you a little story.

My Wonderhubby and I celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary last Thursday.

(I will pause while you thump us both soundly on the back with hearty congratulations. Thank you!)

Anyway, romantic soul that I am, I had the PERFECT present all picked out for him.

You see, he is a service tech. He works with his hands and scary-looking equipment, and jewelry — especially rings — has always been a no-no.

When we got married, I bought him a wedding band, KNOWING that he would wear it only for the ceremony and the honeymoon (because I asked him to) and then it would live in a drawer, never to see the light of day again.

So I didn’t put a lot of thought into the band. It was plain and simple.

And came in under budget.

Accordingly, I developed a fair amount of guilt when he did NOT take the band off after the honeymoon.

In fact, he has NEVER taken the ring off.

So you can imagine the trauma this has caused for a neurotic creature like me.

About three years ago, I thought I should do something about it.

About two years ago, I figured out that our fifth anniversary could possibly be biggish-dealish enough to warrant a new wedding band.

About a year ago, I started hatching my plan and looked at rings whenever I was out.

But, truth be told, my man has very large hands. The simple band he has been wearing needed to be resized three times before it was right. So I was a little nervous about getting something that had “decorations” that would be “interfered with” in the resizing process.

So I hesitated.

And debated.

Meanwhile, we began to kid each other about what we should get each other for this auspicious anniversary.

He thought we should get a juicer.

But not just ANY juicer. More like a juicer-blender-pulverizer that did everything but laundry.

It makes juice. It makes hot soups. It makes frozen desserts.

He was in looooooooooooooooooove.

With a juicer.

I told him that he lacked any romance or sentimentality in his soul whatsoever.

He told me he was PRACTICAL!

Whatever.

So I continued to stew over buying him a ring. And to worry that he wouldn’t like it.

And then on Tuesday, I threw caution to the wind and just told him my plan.

And here was his answer:

“While I appreciate the sentiment, if it were bigger or nicer, I probably wouldn’t wear it.”

That whooshing sound you may have heard was all the air leaving my romantic balloon.

So what does he want?

The juicer.

I’m 100 percent serious.

After all, he said, “what could be more romantic than the gift of health?”

So. I. bought. him. the. juicer.

He is the happiest married man on the planet today. Which, by association, would make me the happiest married woman on the planet.

All this happiness begets happiness, if you get my drift.

I guess romance isn’t really dead after all.

But I do think it’s very, very sick.

Maybe a nice healthy glass of juice would help …

26 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized