Sunday, June 25, 2006


So, it's my ("our") anniversary.

Which explains why I'm home alone.

Jason took last Tuesday off; Jason always believes that our anniversary is 5 days before it actually is.


So I thought it would be charitable of me to at least send him to work this morning with a little something to remember me by. I planned to bake a one-layer replica of our wedding cake. I was dreaming about buttercream for 2 days in advance. I even bought a new featherweight piping bag just for the occasion.

And then, just as 2 perfect rounds of batter were slid into the oven, I discovered that said oven was broken. Broken real good.

Will not heat about 200 degrees.

The cakes were doomed.

Of course, I've already prepaid a florist to order some unsprayed roses for cake adornment, as well as the exact same boutenier that Jason wore at the Canadian version of our wedding.

Without a cake, the cake flowers were pretty pointless, but I was still at least mildly disappointed to see that the florist's was "closed due to flood" and that any and all flowers that I'd ordered were unavailable.

So Jason went to work like it was any other day, and instead of spending his anniversary with his wife, he's spending it with The Other Woman.

Remember when I mentioned that Jason was being lusted after (or should I say coveted?) by some Christian girl at his work? Embarrassingly, every single employee and their uncle seems to know about this crush, and many have already reminded her that Jason is married (you know, in case she missed a certain ring on a certain finger of his). But that didn't stop her from inviting my husband out on a date this week.

Apparently she'd really like to go see Superman with him this weekend. She slipped him her number and everything. Jason, in his awkwardness, threw the number out. Was it burning the inside of his pocket? On his end, he's already ruled out even the possibility of friendship. According to him "Jame, she reads The Bible on her lunch hour. It would be like dating my Grandma."

Ooooh, that's hot.

So while Jason fends her off, I'll sit at home twiddling my thumbs. I can't make the dinner I'd planned with the oven out. I can't even make the dessert I'd planned because when I returned home deflated from the florist, I searched the house high and low for my loaf pan. Yes, I found it. I found it greasy and grubby in the bottom of Jason's toolbox holding nuts and bolts and other things I could not identify. It's totally been bent out of shape. Now I'm totally bent out of shape.

Deep breaths.

I think that I can safely say that all anniversary celebrations have been deferred until some other date - possibly the one next year, or the year after that.

Or is that even far enough away?

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