Valentine's Day Stream of Consciousness and the Disasters of Doing Laundry

Some holidays, Hallmark or otherwise, have a unique vibe year after year. 

Take Valentine’s Day. 

Some years I remember longing, passion, young love. Others have been laden with tantrums as school-aged children threw fits over classroom card options at the drug store. And candy.

Some were wine soaked and dripping chocolate fondue. Others were met with exhausted bodies, minds and spirits longing, this time, for bed. Just bed. No monkey business.

Most have been smooth, easy, not terribly spicy, exciting or dramatic. Peaceful and calm. And monkey stuff.

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I didn’t have to be to the aquarium until 8:00 a.m. today, so I planned to sleep an extra hour after staying up late last night because I could!

In my life, best made plans are usually meant with some type of resistance. And this Valentine’s Day morning was no exception because I was woken before 6:00 a.m. by what I thought sounded like a siren. In actuality, it was my better half vacuuming in the kitchen with my, in very close proximity, bedroom door wide open. 

Ummmm. That’s not very considerate, is it? Especially on the big V-Day. Or any other day!

I stumbled into the room all blurry-eyed, grumpy and What-the-Heck! 

He was vacuuming out the inside of the washer. Huh?

Okay, really, WHAT-THE-HECK! NOW?!?!?

He didn’t have his usual, chipper, happy face on.

I guess somehow there was a hardback book washed along with (his) clothes. 

I can confess to loading the washer with my his dirty clothes last night, but I did not actually start it. Don’t you think we share equal responsibility for the mess?

And a mess it was.

A 300 page hardcover book virtually disintegrates when it’s washed. Go figure. Its bits and pieces get into each and every crack and crevasse of both the washer and the dryer. Because, of course, you switch that shit over after the wash cycle even when you find a book in it? I guess you do...

Obviously, I didn’t put the book in there on purpose. For shame! But I was responsible and any amount of turning things around was not going to work.  My fault.

So the morning of this special day, at least here, did not start all light, love, and happiness. It’s still early though and I did get a smooch before he walked out the door. He gets over things extremely fast, and there's only one way to go and that's up!

Now I just need to tell him I ruined one of his favorite shirts. Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow. Maybe it will just disappear into thin air.