11:20 p.m. - February 14, 2006
Now, on to the show, which is Valentine’s Day, 2006, in the Smed world.
Katie woke us up at 7, and I was out of bed early, as I had chores to do. No, not hay balin’ or milkin’ or chicken killin’, but I had to take out the trash and recyclables, and get all of the dishes done. If you would have seen our sink, that was a chore on its own.
Then, I extracted the Valentines’ day cards from their top secret location, and I had Katie print her name in the one from Katie and Kristin. She bolted upstairs after it was done to give it to Liz, who was just stepping out of the shower. Ah, a soggy card, but it was the spirit of it all.
After that, it was an event free morning, full of work-like activities in a work-like setting. The phone answered, email composed, research done, problems solved, democracy saved.
After lunch, it was more of the same (oh, that and composing my essay on the soundtrack – previously appearing in Smed’s Corner). A decent day’s work, and no calls or emails from home so I assumed that nothing serious had gone on – like none of the cats were thrown into a fireplace.
I then went to the post office to send off the package to England (what, what) and then, homeward bound.
Katie was getting ready for dance class, and Kristin was happily playing in her mothership, so I turned on TiVo, and I made my first mistake.
My first real words to Liz were, “Did you delete the new episode of SVU?”
Not, “Hi, how are you?”
Ack! Ack! Ack!
Sheepishly, Liz admitted it. I felt the urge to explain the TiVo rules to her, but instead I just stammered out a few non-sequitirs and then went to change clothes. After I changed, I realized that I had been a boob, and greeted Liz with the honor and respect she deserves.
So I dug myself out of that hole (note to self: don’t do that again, you fool!) and chilled out while Liz took the kids to Katie’s dance class. Liz said she had something special cooked up for tonight, and told me all she wanted was me on Valentine’s Day. No flowers, no candy (especially no candy), nothing else.
So I was speculating what it was she was cooking up, and of course, I thought immediately an adult steak dinner. She had gotten some steaks at Costco and they were sitting in the freezer. She had to make a grocery stop after dance class, so I thought then she’d be getting the salad, potatoes and wine.
So as I was salivating over steak, I watched the TiVo coverage of the biathlon (quite compelling) and curling. (BTW – Katie is loving the hockey and skiing, though she doesn’t quite understand the gun concept of biathlon. It’s hard to explain to a 4-year old when you don’t let her play with guns because they can hurt people, but the skiers are using guns in a proper and safe way, because they’re shooting at targets.) I saw the US dust off New Zealand, however, our Curling Babes are in a spot, getting waxed by Canada and losing to Japan, of all teams.
(No, I’m not being sexist – they are really Curling Babes – in that sport, being all under 25 means you are babes in the woods – oh, yeah, they’re all cute as well – sorry, still a guy here. But really, I love YOU for just who you are – you are all babes to me – well except the guys – put ‘er there. Ah, can I start that paragraph over? No? Damn!)
Liz gets home with the kids and starts to feed them in order to put them to bed. She then explains to me what the special dinner will be.
An indoor picnic!
I don’t think my face had the reaction she wanted to see.
Of course, I had my mind set on steak – and she offered crackers, summer sausage, nice cheese, chicken strips, and good wine. Oh, and her.
I was just a little surprised. And I tried to explain that to her.
So the kids bathed and off to bed, we had our little picnic in front of the fire, watching the Sopranos and talking about this, that and the other.
It was nice.
After the Sopranos, we then switched over to NBC and I actually watched some of the figure skating with her. (The things I won’t do for that woman). She snarked a lot about Johnny Weir – how he sounded like a spoiled little diva in an interview and her exact quotes, “Could he be any more like Jack from Will and Grace, except with talent?”
I said, “Yeah, but what he’s doing on skates, I can’t even do on shoes. My body just doesn’t do that.”
In talking about the dinner, Liz conceded that she probably threw me for a loop, knowing that we had steaks in the freezer downstairs. So she said we’ll have steaks on Saturday, among other things.
I said that I was just surprised; I was not thinking of a picnic at all in February.
Then she asked where the rest of the summer sausage went.
With that, she went to bed (early start for her tomorrow) and I settled in to watch the US women against Finland in hockey. For a while, those pesky Finns were going to be the bane of us (after their upset of our men’s curling team – the Finnish menace must be stopped!) but we finally put them away.
Despite the bogarting of the processed meat product, Liz was happy to be my valentine, and I’m elated to be hers.
Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got – she puts up with me even in my most boorish and idiotic moods. And tomorrow, she’s getting the flowers that she said she didn’t want today.