Today is my fourteenth wedding anniversary. This should be a good day, but so far it hasn’t gone smoothly. Or should I say smoothie? You see, this morning I went about making the usually breakfast smoothies for my husband and I. In my typical near coma-like state in the morning, I failed to notice that I had incorrectly screwed the glass part of the blender into the base, so that it was cockeyed. So, there I am pouring in the organic concord grape juice (chock full of antioxidants, or so I have read), when I see it all rapidly seep out all over the counter, then, kitchen floor. I tried to stop the deluge by taking the top off and rushing it to the sink like an orderly ferrying a critical triage patient. Not unlike such a medical scene, the floor was covered with grape juice, simulating a blood bath. Ignoring for the moment that the kitchen looked like the set of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I wrestled with the glass part of the blender, trying to get it off the base. This was not a pretty scene.
I finally gave up using my brute strength and opted for pliers. The second pair I tried finally did the trick. After washing the floor three times until my shoes did not stick to it, and making the smoothie twice, I was finally able to sit down to breakfast. By this time, I was awake.
The Smoothie fiasco would have been enough for most people in terms of ruining the start of their day. However, I like to excel at everything I do, even if the category is screwing up. So, I gave my husband the anniversary present I impulsively picked out yesterday. It was a pair of Orrefors cobalt blue crystal champagne glasses to replace two out of the four ones he had broken when the mirror he had put up on the back of our new bar, broke (as you can see, in terms of clumsiness, we are a match made in heaven). It turns out that I had forgotten, in my over forty years old fog of amnesia, that he had already bought himself four replacements.
The saddest part of this is that I have only the vaguest recollection of him buying the four replacement glasses. If this is what my memory is like at 41 and 14 years of marriage, I shudder to think what the future holds. However, I am not going to get too worked up about today’s faux pas, because the way things are going, I am certain to forget them!
I finally gave up using my brute strength and opted for pliers. The second pair I tried finally did the trick. After washing the floor three times until my shoes did not stick to it, and making the smoothie twice, I was finally able to sit down to breakfast. By this time, I was awake.
The Smoothie fiasco would have been enough for most people in terms of ruining the start of their day. However, I like to excel at everything I do, even if the category is screwing up. So, I gave my husband the anniversary present I impulsively picked out yesterday. It was a pair of Orrefors cobalt blue crystal champagne glasses to replace two out of the four ones he had broken when the mirror he had put up on the back of our new bar, broke (as you can see, in terms of clumsiness, we are a match made in heaven). It turns out that I had forgotten, in my over forty years old fog of amnesia, that he had already bought himself four replacements.
The saddest part of this is that I have only the vaguest recollection of him buying the four replacement glasses. If this is what my memory is like at 41 and 14 years of marriage, I shudder to think what the future holds. However, I am not going to get too worked up about today’s faux pas, because the way things are going, I am certain to forget them!
No comments:
Post a Comment