Around Christmas, I posted that I am the worst gift giver ever. This did not magically change with the dropping of the 2012 ball in Times Square. Valentine’s Day just further proved how much I suck at gift giving.
Usually, on VD day, The Captain will run out that afternoon and get me a gift. It will be a spur of the moment thing and I end up laughing at how much thought didn’t go into it.
This year he raised the bar. He went out the day before Valentine’s Day with both boys and picked out a Pandora charm for me. It was the Queen Bee, and it was adorable. I ordered him a jacket on my go-to Amazon.com, but it didn’t arrive in time. Who was the bad Valentine this year? Yeah, two thumbs point to this girl.
The entire evening, The Captain wouldn’t stop gloating over his VD victory. He even went so far to text some of our closest friends and gloat over his ultimate win. He was so proud of his purchase and even more pleased that he out witted and out gifted me. Score one for The Captain.
Since my night was going so well already, I decided to approach the subject of why he picked the queen bee charm for me. Here goes:
“I love this. Why did you choose it?” I asked as innocently as a church mouse.
“Because I knew you liked that one,” he said, obviously not interested in discussing the reason behind the purchase any further.
“There isn’t another deeper meaning of this Pandora charm?” I pressed.
“Maybe because everyone serves you. That could be a reason,” he said without hesitating.
“What does that mean exactly?” or translated: What the (insert expletive here) does that mean?
“Do we have to go through this right now? Really?” he sighed, visibly ready to cease the entire thread of the conversation.
“I don’t know. No… I guess.” I mumbled.
“Let’s not. Here is some more wine,” he refilled my glass, “and now I am going to text B. and let her know all about how your gift to me isn’t here.”
“Great. Thanks soooo much,” I replied sarcastically.
And so it goes.
The more I think about the queen bee charm, the more I am laughing about it. Ten years and six months ago, when we said “I do,” he knew what he was getting into. He knew he would be the chef at our home, he knew his organizational and banking skills would be utilized to the fullest and he knew his OCD cleaning would come in handy. He also knew that I was and am the classic non-domestic goddess, and that is OK most of the time. I guess I am literally the queen bee, but don’t tell him I said that!
Now, if only he would refill my glass again, I would be a super queen bee. Buzz.