We all know that I’m easily the best Valentine anyone can
ever ask for!
Just kidding. It was
nearly 3o years before anyone was brave enough to by my Valentine. And when I got my first Valentine, I gave him
a pair of running shoes for his first Valentine’s Day gift. It’s a gift I would en joy, but hey, I’m not
everybody.
Anyway, I do know that Chris did love his shoes then.
So, let’s recap with this year’s Valentine’s Day…or
Valentine’s Day Eve…
I get off work and haven’t bought Chris’s gift yet. If you know me, then you are not at all
surprised by this. So I go to the local
running shoe store, Ultimate Fit, and get him a pair of shoes. It’s saved in a database and it’s the same
shoe I bought him for our first Valentine’s Day together.
He isn’t home because he’s working, so I met him for
dinner. He was late, I was pissed, but
got over it after he bought me two jumbo margaritas. I know…I’m so easily bought…
Then we left and went home…
Note: I don’t wrap.
At Christmas, my presents get wrapped with the help of my sister. I wrap some of them, she wraps all of them
(because she wraps what I don’t wrap, and then re-wraps what I did wrap because
it is so terribly done).
My idea for his present is to put in the LA-Z-BOY chair that
he always sits in when he gets home at night and be totally surprised by them.
So I get home after dinner, taking Maris outside (Since I
beat him home), and leave his new shoes on this little table we have in the
foyer at the top of our stairs. He isn’t
quite so far behind me, and is inside waiting for me after I’ve let Maris out.
“I see you bought yourself some new shoes,” he says to me.
“He wears a mens’ size 13.
I wear a women’s size 8 ½. “Look
at them,” I say.
He does and then and then lets out some grunting sound.
“Open them,” I say.
He did. And then he
realized that they were men’s shoes and that they were for him. “I didn’t need new shoes,” he said.
“You were complaining about shin splints and knee pain,” I
told him. I’m not new to the running
game. And in fact had to replace shoes
earlier than necessary when I trained for my marathon.
He shrugged, so I said, “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.”
But this story
doesn’t end there. Because, I decided to
get back at him, you see. I just didn’t
realize what I was doing until I’d already done it.
On Valentine’s Day, Chris and I were signed up for a
5k. 4 out of 5 years, I’d ran this
5k. Since we’d been together, this would
be the third time running it, second time that we would be run it together, and
the first time since we had run with our puppy, Maris, who will be 1-year-old
in March.
So we drive to the race on Valentine’s Day. It’s cold, so I go in and register for
us. Did you honestly think I’d have
registered in advance?!
I get our numbers and run back to Chris at the car and we
put our numbers. There is some
discussion about our key. He doesn’t
have any pockets. I don’t either. So I decide to tie the key around my
shoe. But after, walking Maris and being
annoyed by the key slapping my foot, I decide to put the key on her leash
despite Chris’s protestations.
Anyway, we get to the starting line. The national anthem is sang and the gun is
shot and we’re off. Maris is really
excited and Chris knows I’m faster than him, so we trot off ahead him . She’s pulling me , and I’m trying to help
hold her back and then I look down and the key isn’t on her leash!!!!!!
At this point we’re about a half of mile into the race and
Chris catches up to me. He tells me to
look for the key…which I’m prepared to do once I finish the race. Maris and I find our stride, and we take the
next 2 miles as fast as we can. Once we finish we start looking for the key.
Chris is furious with me.
I’m retracing my steps. My
mother, who has a spare key to my car is in Owensboro (45 minutes away), and
can’t get to us. Chris calls my aunt
while I continue to look (my phone was locked in my car). Thankfully, she lives close by.
So we look, Melody picks us up, and then drives us to the
eastside to get my key out of my mom’s house.
And when I say us, I mean Chris, me, and Ginger Biscuit Bottom, Maris. We find the key and drive back to the race.
This is how I would end this story, but I have an ace in the
hole named Darla. Darla is an awesome
retiree whose husband is in charge of security at the local college (who hosted
the 5k). While I asked several times if
the race had found our key, it hadn’t yet been found.
t.
So I told Darla the story about me losing her key. She asked me what it looked like and then
texted her husband describing my key!
Not one to get my hopes up, I think it is a long shot, especially
considering the 6 inches of snow we got since the race.
But, wonder of all wonders, the key was turned into security
and Darla’s husband has my key! He cane
bring it home and she can even get it to me at work!
I’m so excited I text Chris, my mom, and Melody and let them
all know that even know I’m an idiot, at least I did find the key to my car!
Happy fucking Valentine's Day, Chris!
