My ninth wedding anniversary was August 2nd. Knowing I had requested the evening off in observance, one of my twenty-something co-workers asked if I was interested in getting a 'blue genie' or Viagra.
I shook my head, saying, "He doesn't have an issue in that department. And he isn't one to take pills."
"It's not just for E.D. It keeps him harder for longer. Makes him last."
"Like I said, he isn't one to pop pills."
"So, don't tell him. Crush it up. Put it in his food--in his beer."
"It'd be bitter, he'd taste it. He'd be pissed I tried to drug him. No way."
"He'd be so horny, in the end, he wouldn't care."
As much as I would love to reap the benefits, I would never stoop to drugging my spouse. Would you?
On the afternoon of our anniversary, after taking the children to see 'Up' (which left me wet-lashed more than once), I stopped at a jewelers to inquire about repairs to my engagement and wedding bands.
As of today, I am still waiting for a call from the jewelers. I have yet to be given an estimate for the work, but have been assured it would be less than replacing the rings. I've considered having the gold melted down, forming a new ring with that same gold and diamonds. Something stops me, some part of me longs for things to stay the same, remain unchanging.
I feel so naked without those two bands about my finger that I've put another ring temporarily in place.
My husband, on the other hand, has never quite adjusted to the feel of a band upon his finger. He also doesn't like the idea of scratching the delicate gold. While he does not wear his ring at home, he always wears it in public. When I pointed this out, he told me it was to tell the rest of the world he was taken, so leave him alone.
I have the night off, so I'm waiting patiently for a pork roast with mushrooms, red potatoes, and onions to finish cooking. I'm looking to relax, either with a borrowed paranormal romance novel or a hand of Magic: The Gathering with Firstborn.
Well, that's it, really. Thanks for visiting.
