A while back, you noticed an advertisement for some sort of makeup variety pack in an Ulta brochure. You told me that you really wanted it, so I bought it for you for my 342nd act of love. I honestly have no clue what the little bottles and brushes and such that came with it are for, but you were super excited about it, so that makes me happy. When you got it, you kept taking out the various little bottles, dabbing whatever was in them on your finger, then rubbing the stuff on your face. Then you’d look at me and ask me what I thought. Of course I said you looked beautiful. To be honest, though, I think you look awesome with or without makeup. Still, I’m glad you like your little variety pack.
This might lead to our demise, but we like to snack on chocolate chips. We’ll buy a bag of them, not for cookies or muffins, but simply to munch on.
On Saturday night, after you went to bed, I put out a handful of chocolate chips for you down the stairs along with a note that said: “Some sweets for my sweetie.” I expected you to find your surprise the next morning when I was at work.
I’m just not sure how well I thought this plan through. For one, you probably wouldn’t have wanted chocolate chips for breakfast, although you might’ve used them in something that you ate or saved them for later. For another, I didn’t think of the fact that our two older kids might find the chocolate before you.
When you called our kids to you in the morning in order to get them ready for the day, you were surprised to see that they had chocolate all over their faces. “Where did you get chocolate?” you asked. “We ate the chocolate chips dad left for us,” they said. You were pretty confused about that. You didn’t see the note, so it was only later when you talked to me that I was able to clear things up.
For act 323, I baked you (and the girls) some blueberry muffins. They didn’t taste great, but it was fun to surprise you with them.
On Wednesday I bought you this bouquet of flowers:
I didn’t give it directly to you. Instead, I put a note in it that said, “Love, Your Secret Admirer,” then asked a couple that lives next to us if they would take them to you and say that some random person asked them to give it to you. Then I went back to our house.
About ten minutes later, they knocked on the door. When you answered it, they did just as I asked. “Oh! Thank you!” you said. “What did the neighbors say?” I asked you with a huge grin on my face after you closed the door. “Thanks for the flowers, dear. They’re beautiful,” you said. “Weren’t you surprised?” I asked. “Nope. But I love the flowers.” I thought you’d be very surprised and even amazed. So much for being the David Blaine of romance.
On Tuesday, I stuffed some packs of fun size M&M’S in your pillow along with a note that said “Enjoy!” I expected you to lay your head down, notice something odd, then search your pillow and find the surprise. So much for expectations.
That evening, you hopped into bed and laid your head on my pillow. I thought that was weird because of our pillow rivalry: we each argue that our own pillow is better than the other’s. Honestly, there’s no real debate here, since mine is obviously better. It’s firm and supportive, while yours is so soft and airy that your head sinks straight down to bed level when you use it.
“Isn’t that mine?” I asked. “Oh, yeah–I thought something felt really uncomfortable,” you quipped, then switched our pillows and laid your head back down. As you did, the M&M wrappers crinkled. I laughed. “Mmmm . . . now that’s better!” you said as you turned your head back and forth on your pillow, relishing its comfort. The wrappers crinkled with each turn of your head and you didn’t even notice (we won’t draw any conclusions here based on the moral of “The Princess and the Pea”). At that point, I laughed really hard. You thought I was laughing because you were making a big deal about your pillow, so you hammed it up even more. Thus, the wrappers crinkled even more.
“Check inside your pillow,” I said laughing. “What?” “Check inside your pillow.” “What gross thing did you put inside my pillow?” you asked as you quickly pulled your head off of it. I grabbed it and shook out the note and the M&M’S. “Awww! Thanks!” you said, then laughed as you realized what just happened.
I think this episode settles our pillow debate. Clearly, you’ll sleep on anything!
For this act of love, I wrote the following note and stuck it in one of your favorite books on our shelf:
I loved you as I wrote this,
And I love you still,
I love you as you read this,
Pray I always will!
Which book? I’m not telling. Given that it’s one of your favorite books, though, I’m sure you’ll find the note eventually. Or, after reading this, you’ll bug me until I tell you. Actually, the latter’s so likely it’s almost certain.
On Friday, I graded tests at the Starbucks near your parents’ house. Before I left, I talked to Rose, one of the employees, to see if it would be okay for me to buy you a drink that you could pick up later. She thought that would be fine, so I paid for a Mocha Frappuccino and left a note that said, “just because I love you.” While you were out with your mom, I called you and told you to stop by Starbucks on your way back to your parents’ house and ask for Rose. When you did, Rose made you your drink and gave you your note. I saw you a few minutes later and you were giddier than ever. Looking back, I’m not so sure it was a good idea to excite you with a surprise, then pump you full of caffeine and sugar.
On our way home from our friends’ house last night, I stopped by Trader Joe’s one minute before they closed. I bought a dark chocolate candy bar, then hid it in my back pocket. When I came out empty handed, you didn’t even ask me what was going on.
At home, I stuck it under your kindle, then waited “patiently” for you to find it. About five minutes later, I gave up on surprising you and told our oldest daughter to tell you to pick up your kindle. You did and found your chocolate. I asked you if you were curious about why I came out of Trader Joe’s empty handed. You said that you knew something was going on, and that you just needed to wait and see.
On Sunday, we celebrated New Year’s by eating at Chili’s. After we finished our food, I excused myself from the table, approached the hostess, and asked her for a pen and paper. When she gave me them, I wrote this on the paper: “Just because I love you. –Chauncey” (Let “Chauncey” be my alias for the blog. Let’s call you “Francine.”) Then, I approached our server with the note and asked her to bring us the brownie and ice cream dessert with my note placed on the side.
When I returned to my seat, you asked me what I did. I shrugged my shoulders. You jokingly whispered, “You got up just to flirt with the server then?” I whispered in response, “That depends on which server you’re talking about.” (I know—those are terrible jokes.) Then you said, “Seriously, what were you up to?” I laughed nervously and my face turned red. The server honestly took 10 minutes to bring out that dessert and you grilled me the entire time. I nearly gave up the surprise to make you stop.
When our dessert finally arrived, you said, “Oh, Chauncey! You did this for me?! Look girls, dad bought us a dessert just because he loves us!” As you girls were eating the dessert, I asked if I could have some. You said, “Oh, did you buy this because you love yourself?” I said, “Didn’t you read the note? It says ‘Just because I love you, Chauncey.’” You laughed as you handed me a spoon.
When we got into the car, you leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “I’m happy out of my tree that you did that for me, but I’m happier that you’re teaching our girls how guys should treat them.” As you said this, I reached around you and tapped you on the head with the book I was holding (yes, I see the irony in that). You grabbed the book from me, smacked me on the head (notice the lack of proportionality in your response), and said, “Are you ever serious? . . . Really, though, thanks for the dessert.” You’re welcome, Francine.
When I took our oldest to the store on Friday, she wanted to buy you something special, but I had to tell her no. So on the morning of Christmas Eve, I woke up our older daughters and asked them if they wanted to do something special for you. Both of them shot up in bed with a huge smile and said, “Yes!” We went downstairs and prepared some coffee and hot chocolate for you. Then I cut out a heart from red construction paper and the girls and I wrote you a Christmas note on it. We put everything on a plate and took it upstairs, woke you up, and gave it to you.
After we were done, I took the dishes to the kitchen. On the way there, I dropped one of the larger cups and one of the smaller cups. They shattered on the ground. Good thing these cups didn’t have sentimental value. The larger one was only a cup we got when we were first married and use only for special occasions and the smaller one was only a cup in a pair of special cups we got for our daughters. That was a close one! [I thought you knew not to let me carry anything breakable. Will you ever learn? 😉 (Seriously, though, I’m so sorry about the cups. I feel terrible!)]