“I THOUGHT About Buying You Flowers today…”
“Is That How You Wanted Your Hair To Look?”
“That’s no reason to get upset”
“I might not answer my phone because I’ll be having too much fun with my friends”
“Do You Still Belong to that Gym HAHAHA” (when he sees my Curves fob on my keychain as we’re standing in line at the grocery store and his voice carries over into the next Province and EVERYONE is looking at me)
And No, Doug, a doorknob is NEVER a good idea for a present.
I’m an interior decorator and when my granddaughter was born I couldn’t wait to do her room. Unfortunately, there were strict rental restrictions about redecorating so we had to wait. But in the meantime, Jenna was exposed to various decorating situations – her favorite TV show when she was 3 was Trading Spaces. She had definite ideas about color – or lack thereof. Anything white or beige wasn’t a color. She made that perfectly clear. Her favorite decorator on the show was Genevieve and that was because she always made a statement.
Yeah, so I got a phone call one day from her mom (my daughter) and it was clear that I was in some kind of trouble.
Her: Mother? Jenna is grounded from watching Trading Spaces.
Me: (not sure how to react – how in the world does a 3 year old get grounded from watching Trading Spaces????)
Her: You won’t believe what she did…
Me: (I somehow think this has something to do with me and it’s not good)
Her: I went upstairs to her room because she was being very quiet and GUESS what she was doing??????
Me: Um…I don’t know….reading??
Her: She was PAINTING her white furniture with a PURPLE felt marker!!!!!!
Me: really? (um, this is NOT good)
Her: She said to me “The White HAS to go”.
Me: Ok – so maybe you might want to check on the carpet – she told me it had to go, too.
Her: GRRRRR
So a couple of years later I bought her paint, a Trading Spaces shirt (signed by Genevieve and Hildi no less) and helped to paint her furniture properly. All is forgiven - and Jenna still hates anything white.
My birthday is coming up and I know exactly what Doug is getting me.
Nothing. And that’s just the way I like it.
You see, Doug gave me a Christmas gift to remember early on in our relationship. He was going away for Christmas and had dropped his gifts off – there were two – one was obviously clothes and the other was in a box – not too large – about the size that a watch would come in.
I so wanted (and needed) a watch. I was a single mom at the time and didn’t have a lot of extra money to indulge myself. But here (I was sure) it was. What a great boyfriend Doug was!
So, Christmas morning and my kids are all giddy and happy and so am I because, you know, I’m getting this fantastic gift. I opened the obviously clothes gift first – it was a beautiful angora sweater – which I am SOO allergic to, but that’s ok because there’s still one more….
I carefully remove the paper and see the brown box that doesn’t really look like a watch box because there’s no writing on it – it’s just plain brown cardboard.- but you know, that’s ok. Until I look inside and there is…..
A DOORKNOB.
Yep, a doorknob.
You see, because I was a single mom and I didn’t have a lot of money or know-how on doing basic repairs to my house – like put a new doorknob on my bathroom door and apparently Doug didn’t like the method we used to close it, which was to stuff a towel into the hole – he thought it would be a brilliant idea to give me one for Christmas.
Our rules now? We don’t buy each other gifts for birthdays or anniversaries, and only stocking stuffers at Christmas. And if I want a watch? I’ll buy it myself.
There’s boating and prawning and drinking and poker and drinking and hot tubbing and drinking and laughing and drinking and joking and drinking and falling on the rocks and drinking. And that takes care of Friday. On Saturday they play their “Main Event”. There’s big prize money and the coveted trophy for the winner – which, unfortunately, Doug won last year (and trust me, they are all SO proud of this trophy):
Some guys take it seriously because they want to win. Others, like Doug, not so much. It’s more fun to drink and be the funniest person you know. And if you lose, oh well, it’s off to the hot tub and another round of drinks. And when the sun comes up? Well, towel off – it’s time for Caesars and breakfast!
There’s always lots of food (and drinking) and cigars. They even have organized events – like skeet shooting. A brilliant idea! Give drunken men guns and have them shoot into the sky!! They also have a golf competition to see who can hit the nearest island. Oh, oh and the best: craft time:
Such a talented group of 50 something year olds. Yep, at the end of the weekend everyone has lost their voice, eyes are red, legs are wobbly and fun was had by all!
And their better halves? SOOO glad not to have been there.
Doug discovered Sudoku long before I did. I love doing crossword puzzles and would confiscate that part of the paper everyday. Then when the Sudoku revolution invaded North America, Doug enlisted immediately. It’s all about numbers and without any words, so I was less than impressed. Doug, on the other hand, loved it. He tried to get me involved, and although I was having none of it, his persistence (which is a whole other story) finally paid off (i.e. I got tired of listening to him). And because he’s such a good teacher he sat down with me and explained the strategy that is Sudoku. And I have to grudgingly admit that it actually did look interesting. And our morning routine changed.
Doug created a template for Sudoku on the computer and every morning he would put in the numbers from the paper onto his template and print off two copies. The first time we did the Sudoku together it went like this:
Him: Here you go and don’t forget to use a pencil so you can erase if you have to.
Me: Mmm, thanks. Let’s see, there’s a 1 in this column and a 1 in this column so a 1 can’t go here. Mmm.
Him (staring intently): Scratch, rustle, write, scratch, rustle, write.
Me: That’s funny, I’ve never noticed how intense you get when you do this.
Him (staring intently): Uh huh. Scratch, rustle, write, scratch, rustle, write.
Me: Ok. Let’s see. Oh, Oh, a 1 HAS to go here. Yippee, I got one.
Him: (triumphantly stands up with his arms in the air) I Win!!!
Me: ????? This was a contest??? You mean to tell me this was a contest and you didn’t tell me????
Him: I win, I win, I win, hahahahaha!
Oh, it’s on baby, it’s on.
