Singing Lions

Valentine’s Day is something we celebrate.  It all started with a dozen red roses on the kitchen table when my husband and I were dating.  I came home from work (home, at the time, was his house) and walked into the family room with a guy sleeping in our oversized armchair, TV droning on… and in the background there was a vase filled with roses on the kitchen table.  I smiled.


And so the tradition started.


I always try to conjure up something cute and creative.  One year I bought heart-shaped post-it’s and carefully penned lovey-dovey, relationship inspiring quotes.  I spent the morning of February 14th tip-toeing around the house while my honey was still sleeping, sticking those mini love-filled bombs to anything and everything I thought he would use – deodorant, boxers, cereal bowl, door handles, car steering wheel – you get the idea.  I was proud of myself and so I was satisfied.  Another Valentine’s Day of original thinking – check! 


This year I knew what I wanted to do.  During my months and months of wedding planning (I will never do that again, by the way.  One was enough.  I loved our wedding but wow.  It took over every second of my life) a few years ago I came across a book that was a fill-in-the-blank kind of thing for your special someone.  Perfect!  I even wrote the title of the book down on a scrap of paper so I would remember.


Flash forward two weeks ago and that scrap of paper holding my brilliant plan was gone.  I searched the internet in vain, typing in all sorts of combinations of love and heart and book and Valentine to try and find what I had stumbled across so easily before.  I finally found it.  Of course, it wasn’t one of those you could go pick up at a local bookstore so I ordered it online and waited – and I hate waiting.  I wanted to start my project. Now.  The book finally came a few days later and I almost squealed with anticipation of all the wonderful things I would write.


 And then I opened it.


I have no idea what kind of electronic device my husband would be… he and *them* don’t exactly see eye-to-eye so I don’t think his becoming one would be a benefit.  I played it safe.  A calculator.  I don’t think he can break one of those.  If he were a body part, what about that?  Well, last time I checked he was made up of lots of parts and I like them all just fine, thank you.  I think we’re set with that one.  How about if I knew we were going to be stranded on a deserted island, what would I pack?  Well, if I knew in advance? A cell phone, sunscreen, lots of MRE’s, water, a sleeping bag or two, an empty bottle with some paper and a pencil (you never know).  I know I’m supposed to say a hammock, lots of smelly cheese, wine and grapes for you to feed me, one by glorious one, but my brain doesn’t go there with the words “stranded” and “deserted.”  It just doesn’t.  Needless to say my ingenious idea has been foiled by the authors of this book who came up with some of these ridiculous questions.  How can I be lovey-dovey with breakfast cereals and “if I was going to disappear tomorrow, what would I tell you?”  That does not say I love you.  That says depressing.  We’ll see how it goes.


You know, he bought me this stuffed singing pair of lions a few years ago – all decked out in hearts and frills.  One push of the lion’s paw and he belted out “the purpose of a man is to love a woman” followed by the lioness crooning “the purpose of a woman is to love a man.”  That was a good gift – fun for everyone.  Even for Maddie our golden retriever.  She likes anything stuffed.  She’ll take the unfortunate plush in her jaws and shake it like it is trying to attack her with its blunted appendages.  The squeaker it holds so dearly inside?  Let’s not even go there…





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