How I love thee…let me count the ways. (caution, explicit passage may not be suitable for children or overly sensitive)

Today was Lynn and I’s 8th anniversary. I forgot. Again. Of the 8 times this date has come and gone, I have remembered to do something nice five of those times. What makes things worse, I don’t do much better with birthdays. Essentially, I am a Jehovah’s Witness by practice in that I just can’t be held accountable for not celebrating these pagan observances. How close to Muslim terrorist does a Mormon Jehovah’s Witness sit on the religious fanaticism spectrum?

I wish I could say that was all there is to the story, but it gets worse. How did the discovery of my forgetfulness come about? Lynn and I were on the couch at about 9pm. She was watching the Bachelorette and I was half paying attention and half finishing some presentations I have for work tomorrow. She passes me a note that asks if I would like to forgo our separate rooms and share a fantasy suite for the night. Trying to be responsible I respond just as Jillian did on the show. I respectfully declined citing my desire to keep a clear head for the upcoming rose ceremony. I also make a snide remark that insinuates that the only reason the Bachelorette is declining is because she is nursing a flare up of an STD acquired from her previous stint as a finalist on the Bachelor (note-while probably untrue, these types of remarks are appropriate based on the fact that I am a real life doctor). She chuckles uncontrollably while scribbling a response and then throws the note pad on my chest. Her response – “It is our anniversary, you idiot!”

If you can stand to read any more, it gets even worse. I digress for a moment to make a comparison. I remember the first time I watched the movie Meet My Parents or the British version of the Office. I think that was the first time I was truly exposed to the type of humor that makes you feel completely uncomfortable while you are watching it. This story is along that same vein. As I try to call on some quick goat thinking to get me out of an irreparable situation I recall the events earlier in the day. Lynn and I went to the local hardware store, an almost daily event for us over the past several months while finishing our house. We have recently been working (Lynn more than I) on our landscaping. Lynn has been reading all about the plants that will do well in the environment and selecting a few at a time to plant around our house. What is one of the common purchases for one buying potted plants to transfer to their landscaping? Well, fertilizer of course. What is the point I am getting at?

I bought my wife shit for our 8th anniversary. Literally.

So when I try to count the ways that I love her, I only have to count to one and then I can stop. Why would I need more reasons to love someone who can continue to love me despite my egregious imperfections. She laughed with me as we went over the days events and how many times I should have been queued to its importance. Should our discussions of an exotic vacation to Hawaii or Tahiti not have clued me in? How 'bout the sign at the post office that we stared at for 30 minutes while we waited in line that said " Today is July 6th"? Maybe our planning a "special" day up at Alki park should have done the trick. The elaborate meal she cooked on our new infrared grill? Sad, but no.

She is not mad. I am embarrassed at my ineptitude. How could I possibly make this one up to her? Her and I will have to discuss that in the fantasy suite.

-Westbrook, out!