You've probably seen the picture of the surprise flowers I sent Kristie. Well, minus the surprise part.
It's common knowlege among human males that there are two reasons to give flowers to one's wife. First, flowers make her happy. And, second, flowers make her happy. What I'm really getting at is that flowers make women happy.
Of course, there are times when flowers are required - such as when the missus is mad because of some egregious insensitivity. In those cases, flowers serve as an offering of contrition.
And then there are special days like anniversaries, Valentines day, and birthdays - on which flowers become statements of love, appreciation, and, most of all, visible statements that one more husband in the world overcame the male tendency for "important day forgetfulness".
But the most prized piece of flower knowlege that men pick up in the transition from little boys to big boys is that nothing, and I mean NOTHING, compares to the heart-melting power of surprise flowers.
And so it was that I was very content with myself, trying hard not to sprain my arm as I pat my own back, because I had just executed the master flower move. I found the perfect flower arrangement, ordered it, and even went so far as to call the flower shop to make sure it would be delivered when Kristie was at home. All that was left was to wait for the phone call of gratitude that would inevitably come after the delivery.
Imagine, then, my utter horror when an e-mail showed up in my inbox - an e-mail from Kristie about flowers. Not just an e-mail about flowers but a not-so-subtle hint that she'd really, really, REALLY like some flowers. In that instant, my hopeful anticipation of being named "World's Best Husband" deflated with the realization that the pending flower delivery would seem like nothing more than a response to her request. Of course, giving flowers is never a bad thing, but my spirits sunk, having lost the element of surprise.
But wait, it gets worse. Shortly thereafter, I got two more e-mails from Kristie with links and suggestions for the types of flowers she most wanted. Now, not only had I fallen from the pinnacle of flower-giving, but I had sent the wrong flowers. It would seem like I had responded to her request buy buying the first thing that I saw rather than taking the time to find what she really wanted.
As you can imagine, the next hour was filled with far more anxiety than you'd expect of a husband who had just sent flowers. And then the phone rang. It was Kristie. And, of course, she thought the flowers were a reaction to her request. I was very quick to point out that I had ordered the flowers before her e-mail, but, sadly, it was too late.
In the end, however, I decided that, after having been married for eight (yes eight years), I shouldn't be surprised that our minds are on the same wavelength - to the point that she was thinking flowers at the same time I was. I'll just have to do better at shielding my thoughts next time I send flowers. Maybe I'll call someone out-of-state and have them place the order ...