Tomorrow is our sixth anniversary. We put a lot of planning into our celebration this year, as we wanted to do something really nice but not spend too much money.
In anticipation I asked my sister-in-law to babysit, giving her three weeks lead time to be sure we were covered. Check.
Husband’s company represents a wonderful Brazilian steakhouse we’ve been dying to try, Chima’s. It’s a Meatatarian’s delight – all you can eat Rodizio (that’s meat in Portuguese) for $48.50 per person. Husband has a 2-for-1 coupon, and combining that with a leisurely stroll down Las Olas Boulevard would be a wonderfully romantic evening out. Check.
A few days later Husband realizes that his coupon is only good Monday-Wednesday. Uncheck.
We decide to go to Maggiano’s instead. We’ve been there for our anniversary twice before, and they have a wonderful combination meal for $25 a person (last time we were there, at least). Check.
We decide to pair that with a movie. What I want to see: Mamma Mia. Husband says that if he goes to see that movie he may as well cut off his testicles and turn in his Man Card. Ever since Husband chose Species as a movie for us to see he no longer gets to choose (Seriously, the only reason that film was made was to showcase Natasha Henstridge’s breasts), though I must give him kudos for sitting through Muriel’s Wedding. Since then we save the chick flicks and testosterone busters to attend with our same-sex friends. So I came up with a list of films that are gender-neutral and he chose the winner. Check.
I sign up for Maggiano’s mailing list and they send me a $10 off coupon. Check.
I realize that we will miss a Florida State football game. We are both alumni and huge fans (though my passion has waned somewhat since the birth of Son), and this will be the first televised game of the season, since we generally suck (though we squeaked into the top 25 this week), and our first game against a decent opponent. I see the lost puppy look in Husband’s eyes, so I offer to forgo dinner at Maggiano’s and instead see if some friends want to meet us at a local pub to watch the game. Husband smiles. Check.
I call friends. They are delighted. Check.
Today arrives. I wake up happy and excited for our date tonight. Husband sleeps late. I start getting ready to leave for a pedicure (one needs sexy toes) and plan to actually go to the great effort (seriously – it takes forty-five minutes) to blow dry my hair upon my return. Check.
Husband drags himself down the stairs. He looks unhappy. He has awoken with a raging sore throat.
I call sister-in-law and cancel babysitting. Check.
I call friends and cancel meeting at local pub. Check.
I’m still getting my fricking pedicure. Must. Have. Sexy. Toes. Check.
But I’m sooooo NOT blow drying my hair. Check.