The understanding wife.

I recently celebrated a birthday. (Okay, there was more silent cursing of my advancing years than actual celebrating, but you get the idea.)

The husband had some lovely flowers delivered…

 

 

Which have opened quite nicely since then.

 

 

As well as a really large card.

 

 

The phrase “size doesn’t matter” clearly has no meaning for my other half, as evidenced by his gift.

 

 

A monstrously large  (not to mention monstrously expensive)  Breville appliance.

I must have made the mistake of muttering under my breath about needing a new toaster oven recently… because boy, I’ve got one now.

 

 

It’s like that old Ginsu knife they used to advertise ad nauseam in the 80’s. It slices, it dices, it cleans your fish.

 

 

But… but…

While I appreciate the thought, all I really wanted was toast.

So I unpacked and played with my new toy in between doing hair and makeup and getting ready to go out to dinner as we always do on my  damn it, don’t remind me I’m older  birthday.

Except…. (here comes the understanding wife part) my kind, considerate husband called to say his friend at the office won Bruins tickets and he’d like to go with him down to Boston for the night.

 

 

Yes, he’s a brave soul.

Reasons?

#1…. I turned … never mind what I turned. Suffice it to say it’s generally not an easy age for women.

#2…. I just weaned myself off my estrogen patch a few weeks ago and, have been  experiencing uncontrollable psychotic rages  a little moody.

#3…. I had planned on a few celebratory cocktails. (Which no one should get in the way of and expect to live.)

Regardless, he plowed ahead with all the reasons he should attend while I listened quietly and agreed. The ever understanding wife.

That being said, let me leave you with a word of advice gentlemen….

 

 

We women have long memories.