the world is your acorn

For Valentine’s Day, The Little Red Haired Girl gave me the present I wanted most. I know, it’s not even V Day yet, but I accidentally tricked her into telling me that she bought it for me, so I made her produce last night:

Me: All I want for Valentine’s Day is some red hots. Forget about the Whitman’s Sampler, I’m over it.
Her: You ARE?
Me: Oh. Did you already get it?
Her: Yes
Me: You’re so sweet, all planning ahead.
Her: I JUST picked it up. I’ll take it back.
Me: NO! I want it still. Let’s eat it now.
Her: It’s for you, you have to eat it.
Me: We’ll share it after dinner.
Her: Ok.

So yes, if you didn’t get it from the transcript, I got a Whitman’s Sampler. Heart shaped. Now, before you judge, here’s the context of the situation. We don’t normally exchange V Day gifts (in fact, I haven’t gotten her anything. Is that bad?). Last week at the grocery store I told her that I wanted a Whitman’s Sampler, because I’ve never gotten one before. She said “No honey, they’re gross and you don’t even like chocolate,” at which point I threw a temper tantrum.

Now I have a Whitman’s Sampler, all to myself. I can eat whichever chocolates I want, and bite the others and put them back. Sure, I really am not a big chocolate eater, but it’s the principle of the thing. Lady E would understand. Plus it’s heart shaped. I’ve never gotten to be a cliche before (except the whole flannel shirt/doc martin/burkenstock/rugby thing), and now it’s my turn.

The Little Red Haired Girl is always so patient with my numerous stupid demands, humoring me whenever I get bratty or silly. Which practically never happens*. I may not always be appreciative enough of that. Sometimes it can be hard in a relationship to remember to be appreciative, and to recognize that there are things to be appreciative of. I think I will try to keep that in mind better from now on.

*When I say “practically never,” I might actually mean “frequently”

I know that blizzards and snow storms are not “fun” for a lot of reasons: they are often dangerous, snow removal is expensive, traffic and traveling is disrupted. Still, though, I miss it. I miss getting snowed in with friends, and sitting outside in the dense quiet, and falling into heaping piles of fresh drifts. I even miss shoveling. I know there are things that I don’t miss, and I’m romanticizing the blizzard since I’m not there, but I also know that I was used to them as a part of life and this morning, when The Little Red Haired Girl reported the 24 inches that Boston got, I had a little pang, and since then that pang has turned into some serious homesickness. My wallowing is definitely not helping. Here are some pictures from the storm:
A Record Storm [New York Times]