So one day, there you are, to stop the griping when you announce that it's overflowing and will he please come and take the trash out, you do it yourself. You're not only cooking all the meals, but you are cleaning the dishes and everything else that goes with preparing a meal, all by yourself. You are washing, drying, folding and putting all the clothes away, all by yourself as he sits in his recliner with his feet jacked up watching Westerns.
You come home for work, the day from hell, only to see everyone sitting on their behinds, watching TV, and the only reason they glance up is to ask, "What's for supper?" Or to ask, if you remembered to stop and pick up his prescription from the drugstore. The same drugstore he himself passed on the way home. Or to ask who drank all the water out of the refrigerator and didn't fill it back up? When you know he takes two bottles to work himself everyday and to have noticed it was empty and he chose not to refill it, but only gripe about it to make his point first? Or to walk into the kitchen to find the food bowls from their take to work lunches in the sink, instead of making the next natural step to the dishwasher.
They stop telling you how much they enjoyed dinner, breakfast, and supper. You don't remember the last time he opened a door for you. They no longer notice anything, because for them too, everything has just come to be expected. To have clean clothes, a clean home, food on the table, medicine ready to swallow, and all of their appointments made with reminders from you to show up.
All of that was said to say this, we don't need you to stand in CVS the eve of Valentine's trying to find us a card, weeding through a bunch of picked over mess, because you waited too late. We don't need you to run by Winn Dixie and grab some leftover half wilted flowers because you forgot AGAIN that you have to order from a real florist much earlier for certain holidays. Or worse, because you refuse to use your imagination, you spend close to $100 on flowers that are only going to die. And we don't need some crappy bath salts pre-made gift package from Wal-Mart that was a very apparent afterthought because you should know by we are allergic to flowerdy scented junk, it makes our skin break out in hives and an emergency trip to Urgent Care is not our idea of a thoughtful gift.
How about this lovely idea instead:
Present us with a coupon book. In this coupon book, good for 365 days, it will have the following:
A. 30 Coupons for dishwashing/cleaning the kitchen..
B. 30 Coupons for doing all the grocery shopping..
C. 30 Coupons for wash/dry/fold/put up all the clothes.
D. 30 Coupons for taking out the trash without being asked.
E. 30 Coupons for picking up his own shoes and clothes out of the floor.
F. 5 Coupons for FIVE movies WE want to go see..with NO WHINING from you.
G. 10 Coupons for you to seat on the Glider with us at night and carry on a real conversation without the TV being on.
H. And finally 5 Coupons for the month of December....for no griping about helping with the Christmas decorations. going up...OR coming down. AT ALL.
I just don't think thirty times, ten times or five times a year is so much to ask. We don't need flowers, clothes, cheesy gifts or diamonds. We need you to be partners with us. Just like in the beginning. When it really was just you and me. No kids, no grandchildren. Just us. When we were the only thing you thought about getting home to, and a hug was the first thing that passed between us when you walked in the door instead of demands and questions about menus and medicine errands. We want you most all of the time, and we just want you to want us. We want you to be interested in how our day went, the good ones and the bad ones. And we would really like it if for just one night of every month, we acted like our television didn't work.