My Funny Valentine

This year, Michael and I agreed that eleven years of marriage warrants a "fun Valentine outing" rather than a "useless doo-dad neither of us needs" to honor Cupid. So after last night out to a spa, sushi, and a movie, I thought today we could just make heart-shaped pancakes with the kids and call it good.

Then I saw the card. A card Michael had strategically placed on my vanity, right next to the blow dryer. What? No gifts also means no cards, right? Way to make me feel bad. But then I looked closer, which wasn't hard to do as the card had no envelope. It was one of those dippy cards with a cartoon dog couple making jokes about how she vacuums while he snores, but they love each other anyway. Yet this card looked oddly familiar.

Last week, I organized my night stand and had thrown out a collection of random junk, including this same card. I thought I had hidden it pretty well in the trash from my ever-sentimental husband who still keeps ticket stubs from movies he saw when he was 11. I turned to Michael who was in the shower and laughed,

"I don't know what's more sad--that you found a stash of cards from yourself that I threw away, or that you RE-GIFTED me a card from last Valentine's Day?"

"Open it up," he said.

I did, to read the rest of the stupid dog couple poem, followed by the words, "Happy Anniversary."