I got off work at 6 last night, after Doug had gotten off at 1. I’d been telling him all week this meant he had five hours to plan something awesome. And when I got home, this is what I found:
-A heart-shaped balloon on the doorstep
-A glass of champagne and a dish of candy hearts on the table just inside the door
-A dozen coral-pink roses and a bottle of sweet-pea-and-berry-scented bubble bath in the bathtub
-Some of my romantic comedy DVDs, a bag of popcorn, and a package of Red Vines inside the oven
-A bottle of lotion and a note promising a massage on my pillow
Each of these had a post-it on it that told me where to go to find the next surprise. The one on the bed said, “I have the last clue,” so I walked back into the living room where Doug had been sitting at his computer desk, watching me trek back and forth across our 700-square-foot apartment.
“I just have your card,” he said, handing it to me and giving me a hug.
The store-bought card read as follows:
The best thing about living together? That’s easy.
It’s waking up next to you each morning and kissing good-bye as we run out the door.
It’s hanging out after work and talking about our days while we figure out what to eat.
It’s relaxing on the couch and catching up on our favorite shows until one of us says, “Let’s go to bed.”
The best thing about living together is being with you.
“This is perfect!” I exclaimed. “Last year’s card was perfect too. How do you always find such perfect cards?”
“I went to seven stores,” Doug admitted.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I found out that the card and chocolate I’d sent on Friday to Arohanui, a blog friend in New Zealand, had indeed arrived on Valentine’s Day. Knowing the post office, and my tendency to buy/send gifts at the last minute, I’d actually written in the card that I would be happy if the package arrived before the end of February – and I figured it wouldn’t make that much difference to her, since New Zealand hasn’t really caught on to the holiday yet (which was my main reason for sending her a Valentine in the first place). But it arrived on time, and ended up brightening her day, which hadn’t been a great one. A welcome surprise for both of us, perfectly timed.
Speaking of perfect timing, I don’t mean to brag when I say…
My period started late last night, exactly two weeks after I guessed I had ovulated. Which means, at least until proven otherwise, all of my parts are in working order. Just 18 more months, uterus. Then the world will be ours!