Ban Valentine’s Day
There’s something refreshing about gifts. The fact that someone thought of me and went out of their way to get me a gift, which hopefully they put some thought into, elicits intense gratification and delight in me. According to Garry Chapman, there are five languages of love. Receiving gifts, spending quality time, physical touch, acts of service and words of affirmation. Now all those seem equally important, right? But the degree of importance varies from person to person. My desire for gifts is so bad so much so I would allocate 50% to receiving gifts and the remaining four languages can happily share the other 50%, probably not in equal measure though. It is important to understand you partner’s language of love otherwise you will be in the dog house like I am currently.
Yesterday, the mister delivered flowers to my office. He did not send the flower people, or a rider. He took time off his busy schedule to drive to my office and give them to me. First, I was in shock because I doubt I have ever received flowers from him (or any one else for that matter). He is just not a flower kind of person. And gifting is really not his language of love. When he gives, he gives big time. And then you sort of have to amortize that gift for a period of 12 months (or more) until he unleashes the next big thing.
I was excited for about a minute but then I started to worry. He did not have any gift bag with him. Still, I kept my hopes up. I looked at his hands severally hoping that he was holding something else in them. The right one that was previously holding the flowers was obviously empty, and the other one was thrusted in his pocket. I hoped that he would retrieve it and hand me a tiny box or even an envelope with a voucher (clearly I don’t only dream at night hehe) . Forget about a box, I don’t care much about presentation. I imagined he would unclench his fist and upend something scintillating in my hand. But then he said he had to dash back to the office, pulled out his hand (which was empty) and gave me a hug. I peered over his shoulders hoping to see an entourage that he had probably instructed to wait outside, and deliver the big surprise just when I had lost all hope. Nothing. We said our goodbyes and I watched him leave as I struggled to balance tears.
In the evening when he got home, I handed him and the kids their gifts (cologne for him, perfume for Xena and a toy for Xia) which had been meticulously wrapped. I sat back and watched them unwrap their presents and I was thrilled to see all of them so genuinely excited. Then I took that opportune time to explain my disappointment in the fact that the flowers were not accompanied by anything else and how I wished that he put more thought into his gifts. Bad decision Joy, bad. Have you ever wished you could swallow your words, like Jim Carey in Liar Liar? As soon as I said it, it hit me that he exerts himself so much and being disappointed over his choice of gift on Valentine’s Day was something so stupid, even Xena would understand that it’s stupid.
Evening ruined, dinner in silence and lots of begging that fell on deaf ears. Next time I will run my thoughts and opinions by someone else before attacking the mister with them because clearly I tend to lose my marbles sometimes. Better yet, I will completely eliminate Valentine’s day from my calendar of events!