Yesterday, Mr Amazing Dude wasn't feeling himself.
In fact, he identified more with Mr Amazing Dud.
To be brief, he had a long day where all his regularly scheduled errands, classes and responsibilities fell through due to no action of his own. Nothing went as planned. It was one horrible string of unfortunate events, which each taken on their own normally wouldn't have even made him blink. But the sum total of them all caused his shoulders to droop. I heard his frustration every time he called me. Which was several times. Which is not normal on a work day. I answered most of them, but seeing as I was at work, getting paid to do my job, I wasn't able to always get to my cell.
By the end of the day, I was starting to empathize with him. My poor husband works diligently, is very responsible, ordered, predictable, and generally annoyingly optimistic about life. And yet, there was this quiet sadness overwhelming his voice the last time we spoke before I left work to come home.
I wanted to cry for the man.
But I figured laughter would be better for both of us.
Thus, I endeavored to cheer him up. I dropped in a local grocer on the way home and picked up a lovely bouquet of roses shaded a pale dusty lilac along with some yummy cherry amaretto coconut ice cream.
Very proud of myself, I got home in record slow speed (he tried calling me concerned that I wasn't home yet) and then surprised him at the door with the roses. He rewarded me with a huge, silly, VERY happy grin. and then proceeded to put them in a vase of water holding fresh white,yellow, and pale dusty lilac colored daisies. I stared at the flowers and he admitted that he thought it'd be nice to get me flowers on the way home.
We both giggled a "Awww, that's so sweet-we got each other flowers!" Then, I smirked that I topped that because I brought him home some ice cream. As I whipped out my pint of deletable cream, he beat me to the freezer and in a flourish revealed his own pint of cherry amaretto coconut ice cream.
You've heard it said great minds think alike. But, apparently, so do boring, old married people.