I am not a sentimental person. I don’t take tons of pictures. I don’t remember the exact date when my husband proposed or when we went on our first date. I have forgotten my own wedding anniversary at least twice. So, when I made the date for my Perfect Day, it didn’t occur to me that it was Valentine’s Day weekend. When it finally did occur to me, I felt incredibly selfish and guilty. First, because me dear, dear mother-in-law was sacrificing her weekend. Secondly, because I had planned to banish my husband from the child-free house. Compromise was in order.
I “allowed” my husband home and he agreed to cook for me. Excellent. I could still stay at home in my pajamas and maybe we could find some dumb romantic comedy to watch together. Or maybe not.
It was early. 4:30. Staying at home doing nothing sounds great, in theory. In reality, it’s kind of boring. I’d already watched enough television. The book I’m reading is boring. I’ve read everything in the house a million times. I thought about shopping, but trying on clothes is a nightmare, serving only to remind me how short and fat I am. We had ordered a computer and planned to pick it up on Sunday afternoon. But since it was just us, we decided to go ahead and go get it. I reluctantly got dressed, wishing I had ordered those ridiculous pajama jeans, and headed out.
We stopped at Starbucks, which is always nice. Then we went to Best Buy and considered buying a digital video camera, so that when I forgot to bring it to baseball games or church plays, it would at least be a more technologically advanced device sitting uselessly on the dresser at home. Instead we bought “The Expendables” and “The Maltese Falcon” on Blu-Ray–not exactly the romantic comedy I had in mind. I was beginning to get a little angry. What happened to my Perfect Day? Then I saw it. Something I’ve wanted for a while and something else my husband simply can’t understand. The Bruno Mars CD. I bought it and made it clear that we would be listening to it on the way home. To his credit, my husband (who I’m going to start calling Chris since that’s his name and takes a lot less time to type) made no objection. To my credit, I only listened to two complete songs and settled for 30-45 second previews of the rest, just to be nice. Chris listens to nothing but Southern Gospel, with the occasional foray into classic country or White Snake, so it was REALLY considerate of him to suffer through some Bruno Mars.
We got home and it was time to do two things–cook dinner and set up the new computer. Now, I can do one of those things well, and it isn’t setting up a computer. So I agreed to cook. On my day. After Chris promised I wouldn’t have to. AND, there was a NASCAR race on the TV. I instantly regretted my earlier benevolence. I should’ve listened to the whole CD. Heck, I should’ve bought a Christina Perri CD and made him listen to that! No. I’m not that mean.
I cooked. We ate. We watched the dumbest movie I have ever seen in my life. I think it was called “Fourth Kind,” but might’ve been called, “Crazy lady tries to video tape hypnosis sessions, but can’t get clear reception, so does something to her daughter and makes up story of alien abduction to cover for her lack of audio-visual skills.” Whatever, it was awful. Then we went to bed.
And so concluded The Perfect Day. Was it everything I dreamed it would be? Not exactly. It was ridiculous to think it would be. As I sit here with my back still hurting and my french pedicure already chipped, it kind of seems like a colossal waste of time and money. I also feel a little selfish. How can the perfect day be a day without the most important people in my life? I have 5 fantastic children. Our family is large and loud and every day is an adventure.
Sounds pretty perfect to me.