The Story

So, I've had a couple people ask me the story behind the mortar and pestle. I will attempt to explain: I am married to David. The end.

No really, here it is. We have a little tradition of starting out Valentine's day by everyone waking up to a little pile of Valentines waiting for them on their placemat at the kitchen table. We have done this for several years now. The boys always get one of those little heart shaped boxes of chocolate with a cartoon and cheesy saying on the front from their dad, some new unders (usually boxers) from me and also the Valentine's treats and cards that have come in the mail from grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, etc. I usually have a handmade card for David and some little something--we don't go overboard. This year it was a cute container of different flavored Hershey Kisses and a dvd of the movie The Labyrinth. I put all these things out the night before Valentine's Day and then went to bed. I slept in pretty late in the morning and didn't wake up until around 9:30 or so, but no big deal because it was a Saturday. Usually Dave is the first one up, but not on Saturday. I went in the kitchen and the boys had already done serious damage to their treats. There was still nothing at my place but that wasn't unexpected. Shortly thereafter David woke up and stumbled into the kitchen.  He told me that he had something for me but it wasn't wrapped. I told him no big deal. We don't wrap for Valentine's day. He went out to the car and brought in a dvd of You've Got Mail and a mortar and pestle. The movie was great but my first thought upon seeing the mortar and pestle was the time he gave me a Lynard Skynard cd and a can of cashews for my birthday. He explained to me that he felt bad that he didn't have much of a Valentine for me and he had purchased the mortar and pestle because he wanted one and just decided to give it to me instead. I would have been happy with just the movie but I guess it is the thought that counts.

To be fair he did bring me a bouquet of flowers later that evening and we had a sparkling grape juice toast before retiring to bed to read our respective books. I have to agree with my sister's assessment. She pointed out that men have so many expectations placed on them for this particular holiday that it's hard to live up to them.  I feel a little bad for David, but not so bad that I could avoid the opportunity for a little good-natured joking at his expense.

At least I can say that it was an unexpected surprise. I could think of probably literally a thousand things on my wish list before a mortar and pestle but since he really bought it for himself anyway I guess that's irrelevant.