Today David and I decided to go to a movie and out to eat as a partial effort towards Valentine's Day celebrations. We aren't a very romantical people so we don't exactly go for candlelit dinners and sweetsy movies. David is also a big fan of saying that "flowers die" so he usually doesn't buy flowers. Plus I don't really want to spend a bunch of money on flowers and candy when we're going on vacation in less than a week. Regardless of my pre-vacation thriftiness we felt we should take a stab at some sort of "celebration" of our love.
Being the awesome and great wife that I am I let David pick the movie. I'm not a huge fan of chick flicks and since that's almost all that's out right now I didn't really have an opinion one way or the other. So David picks "From Paris, with love." Sounds romantic right? Don't let the title fool you, its about John Travolta being some sort of bald and goateed secret agent guy with an odd couple pairing for a partner, running around Paris trying to stop some harebrained terrorist plot. It wasn't exactly a cinematic masterpiece, but David says that's cause I don't fully appreciate slow motion bullet action.
So right after we get out of the movie we go outside the theater where its blindingly bright. So I reach into my bag and get my brand new sunglasses and put them on. Besides the fact that one side seems a little brighter than the other I don't notice anything out of the ordinary. I walk from the theater to the car, get into the car and we start to drive away. Then I glance at my reflection in the rearview mirror. My glasses only had one lens in them! I looked like a pirate! Or some kind of weird cyclops - or even when people have a bandage over one eye but still wear glasses anyway. My wonderful caring husband either didn't notice or didn't bother to tell me that I was walking around in public looking like an idiot. He was probably too busy looking at my boobs to look at my face. Luckily I didn't go too far before noticing and the missing lens was in my purse.
After that romantic movie and my embarassment of looking like a pirate we did the next most romantic thing we could think of. We went to Buffalo Wild Wings. For most people a sports bar doesn't put them in the mood, but for David anywhere they have TV's in the bathroom and sports on every channel is a dream come true. Plus, they serve hot wings! After eating a meal where almost everything had BBQ sauce on it we came home, Valentine's Day celebrations complete.
Even though David didn't tell me I was walking aroung looking like an idiot I still love and appreciate him and everything he does for me and our ladies. He goes to work every day without complaint, does the dishes more than I give him credit for, is a great husband and father and even puts up with my crazy "crockpot moments" when I'm pregnant (inside joke!). So I guess he deserves to see a cheesy action movie and eat hot wings every once in a while.