Saturday, February 14, 2009

a valentine smackdown in 4 acts

This image of the Biscuit at her preschool Valentine's Day party, eating a sugar cookie and sucking down 5000 sprinkles and drinking a juice box, is brought to you by the letter V and the number 2 and Dr. Crog's mastery of calendars. At least his darling daughter comprehends the fantabulosity that is V-day, especially when it means she gets to taste the forbidden sweetness of sugar.


Condensing our morning into four acts gives one a proper understanding of Dr. Crog's romantic complexity.

Act I: A Gift of Love

Me: So i'm thinking we need to stop today on our date and get a little something for the Biscuit...
Dr. Crog: Why? She has too many toys already.
Me: Well, it's a special holiday. When I was a kid, my daddy always got me a little gift on Valentine's Day, and I remember it fondly to this day. Just a little $2 stuffed animal or something.
Dr. Crog: Having a family tradition is fine, but I think it's stupid to get her some little piece of crap toy that we'll have to clean up every day. Might as well throw our money down the toilet.
Me: Yeah, that's very tender of you.

Act II: A Romantic Dinner for Two

Dr. Crog: (brusquely) So are we going to that stupid restaurant today?
Me: Um, only if you want to, I guess.
Dr. Crog: Don't do that annoying woman thing. I want to know *if* we're going, and when. Not, "Oh, gee, I dunno, if you want to," blah blah blah. If it's so freakin' important to you, make the decision, make the reservation, and I guess we'll go.
Me: Well, if that's your attitude, then I guess no, we're not going.
Dr. Crog: Well, i'd just as soon go out for pizza. You know I don't care about going to dinner at some fancy restaurant where they jack up the stupid prices to rape the fiscal crap out of us.
Me: Ah. Romantic.

Act III: Love is Patient

Dr. Crog: (in austere voice, emerging from the dining room) So, I have a question.
Me: I can guess what this is about...
Dr. Crog: I'm not placing blame or being accusatory...
Me: "BUT..."
Dr. Crog: BUT i'd like to know when our dining room will go back to being a dining room and cease being a repository for 600 paintings of naked women.
Me: I don't know...
Dr. Crog: (in Charlie Brown Schoolmarm voice) See, that's what you get to decide, is the time frame. Is it today or next week, or what? Because I don't mind you actually working in there, but I don't want it used for storage, and i'd really like to have our formal dining room back, because we bought a house with a formal dining room so that we could enjoy it, and i'd actually like to eat in there one day, and.... wah wah wop wah wah.
Me: Okay, okay. I guess i'll photograph the paintings faster and get them up on Etsy and out of there...
Dr. Crog: Look, i'm not being accusatory, so don't be defensive, just GET THEM OUT OF THERE. PLEASE.
Me: Yeah, got that.
Dr. Crog: So what's the time frame??
Me: Do you mind if I finish this cup of coffee first and ENJOY MY FREAKIN' VALENTINE'S DAY MORNING? OR IS THAT TIME FRAME TOO LONG FOR YOU???!!w#$#$^%$^$%

Act IV: Denouement

(Dr. Crog pauses, his face frozen in realization and chagrin)

Dr. Crog: Wait, TODAY is Valentine's Day?
Me: Yep. We've only mentioned it two or three times in the last hour.
Dr. Crog: So that trip to the fancy restaurant wasn't because we sold the motorcycle and wanted a treat.... it was... for Valentine's Day?
Me: Yep.
Dr. Crog: Okay, well i'm going to just sit over here and try not to be a jerk for the next 15 minutes.
Me: Thanks for that.
Dr. Crog: But I brought you a rose yesterday!
Me: Yep. That's why you're still alive.

Anyway, we are now on the same page about a fancy dinner sans kids for Valentine's Day, so that's nice. I've really been looking forward to something besides pizza and hamburgers. Because as much as I like pizza and hamburgers, and I REALLY like them, every now and then, I want something that comes with a side dish that ain't fries.

When I think about my husband, I don't mind episodes like this. Because I know exactly what's going on. I know that he was only frachetty because he was waiting for his gi to dry so he could go choke people and teach kids, and he doesn't know how to relax when there's work to do. I know that he forgot Valentine's Day only because he had such a tough week. I know that any reticence to spend money stems from his drive to provide for the family and make our future as comfortable and pleasant as our present. And I love all those things about him.

And most of all, I don't mind because I got to shriek with laughter for 5 minutes, tears streaming out of my eyes, rocking back and forth on the couch, because is was SO FREAKIN' FUNNY.

The look on his face when he realized that he had spent all morning chastising me and grouching at me on Valentine's Day during my "sacred morning", because as long as my coffee cup is in my hand, my morning is as sacred as can be with two kids around. My brilliant husband simply had no idea it was V-day, despite the hearts, pink doodads, jewelry commercials, and overpriced flowers bombarding him through every pore via the internet, radio, and his toddler daughter. Oh, we laughed so hard, my Valentine and me.

Also, I accidentally shot him in the eye with a rubber band during breakfast, so I suppose we're about even.

*Note: Some poetic liberties may have been taken for the sake of humor. Just a little.

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