It’s not that I don’t have a soft, gooey middle – it’s just that I am terrible at being romantic. For the life of me, I can’t think of anything for us to do for our anniversary. The only thing I had really considered regarding our anniversary was getting a cake made that was the same as the top layer of our wedding cake, which was the layer we ate. There’s actually a funny story about that…
The day after the wedding, we packed up my Honda Civic and began the drive from Connecticut to South Carolina. We finally got a full start somewhere in the afternoon, and planned on driving straight through the night. Around midnight, we were going strong – about an hour later, we were going to crash the car if we didn’t find someplace to sleep. Of course, with my cat in her carrier in the car, our choice of hotels was slightly limited, and we ended up in a somewhat (extremely) sketchy motel with a door for which the key did not work.
So when we realized we needed some form of cat litter/litter box for the cat, one of us had to stay at the hotel – since the cat is mine, I ventured forth into the night (now around 2am)…only to discover Wal-Mart was closed, but that a nearby gas station had cat litter and – hurrah! – an empty Krispy Kreme donut box that they were kind enough to let me have, and which worked just fine for the cat.
I arrive back at the hotel, and we climb into bed for about 5 minutes until we realize we are starving. So, we grab the wedding cake out of the mini-fridge, because it’s the one edible thing we have and we don’t want to go back out. The one thing we don’t have is utensils, but we do have white chocolate daffodil lollipops that I’d made as wedding favors. So there we are – 3am on the second night of being married, sitting in a sketchy little motel, eating wedding cake with lollipops, and laughing like little kids.
N tells the story much better than I do, because he adds in that for a bit there he thought the cat had escaped and that his brand new bride was either going to kill him or collapse into tears.
Now granted, the bakery where we got our wedding cake is over 700 miles away, but I have photos, and there’s a place in town that offers the same flavors (red velvet with raspberry mousse filling). Maybe if I get the cake, and make a couple of daffodil lollipops, he’ll chuckle over it.
Beyond that? I…don’t know. I am going to have to admit that my husband is the more romantic of the two of us. After all – he was the one who arranged for roses and chocolates in Charleston, he’s the one who sent me a red plush monkey (which turns into a blanket) and a zombie hoodie for Valentine’s last year, and then got a speeding ticket bringing me flowers at work this year.
Me? I can’t even figure out anything we should do besides maybe dinner and a movie. I sometimes think I’d almost be better at being a guy…
(P.S. We decided that Maggie will fit in just fine with our family; it was a tough few days until she started to settle in, but we’re all doing great now.)