Once upon a Valentine's Day...

My sweet hubby came home today and apologized for not bringing me chocolates.  He had an excellent reason -- See's Candy was knee deep in men buying last minute candies, and had a line out the door -- and he knew that I prefer quality over quantity anyway.  Plus, he usually picks a box of my favorites only (NO NUTS!) and that takes time.  Then of course, he'd already given me the chocolate that he bought earlier for V-Day... evidently I'm not the only one who has a hard time holding on to gifts.  I noticed he didn't apologize for not bringing flowers.  Actually, we laughed together about that. 

Once upon a Valentine's Day, back when we were first married, my husband brought me flowers...

"Oh, sweetheart!" I said, "They're beautiful!"  And they were.  I don't remember all of what was in the bouquet, but I know there were a few daisies, and some absolutely gorgeous tiger lilies that were about to open.  I love flowers... they're beautiful. 

I put them in a vase in the middle of the table.  The next morning, the first tiger lily opened.  It was beautiful!  It was also... fragrant.  After eating breakfast with it, my eyes started watering and I started sneezing.  I decided the bouquet would look beautiful on the counter over by the sink.  I moved it. 

Doing the dishes that morning, I realized that I spend a lot of time in the kitchen -- and my nose was now running, and the sneezes were getting worse.  I decided the flowers would look better in the living room.  I moved them. 

During lessons, I kept sneezing.  My eyes were now watering and my makeup was toast.  I tried to explain to my students that it was allergies, but they still looked at me a bit skeptically.  I decided that the flowers would look very nice in the library.  I moved them. 

That afternoon, I started working on the computer in the library.  I soon realized that my nose was itching again and knew I had to move them.  But where?  I HAD to display them somewhere.  "The bedroom!" I thought.  They would look lovely in there, and Neil would be sure to notice them.  After I moved them, though, I started thinking about what a night breathing flower dust would do to me... and I knew I couldn't put them in there.  The bathroom?  No...

"Hi, honey!" said Neil when he came home.  I don't think he noticed right away that the flowers were gone from the table.  But he did eventually notice the flowers, prominently displayed in the laundry room on the washing machine. 

"Um... Neil," I said, "I LOVE the flowers... and they are so pretty... and you were very thoughtful to get them for me... thank you... but please never get me flowers again!" 

And he didn't.  :-)  At least not fragrant ones.  He's such a nice husband...