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Leanne Shirtliffe

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Valentine's Day, Husbands, and Socks

I don’t expect much from Valentine’s Day. It’s not a big deal between my husband and me. If you want to hear my issues first hand, check out how I complained about Valentine’s Day on CBC-Radio (Canada’s NPR) last week.

On Friday, when I stumbled home from work looking forward to a barbecued steak dinner, there was something else in store for me: a bouquet.

The flowers were standing on the kitchen table in one of our vases, wrapped in newspaper. Being the nice wife I am, I winced. My husband knows that my favourite flowers are Daisies-on-Steroids (apparently they’re better known as Gerber Daisies or “Gerbera jamesonii” if you’re a bio-geek), but our local supermarket carries only sad-droopy-normal daisies and wilted roses.

I opened the newspaper cautiously, wondering if I should feign excitement over the $5.99 flower arrangement.

And then I squealed.

It was a bouquet of socks.

Sock Bouquet

And not just any socks. These were imported-from-New-Zealand-merino-wool socks. These socks have an environmental footprint bigger than Shell, but no matter.

Because they warmed my Canadian iceberg feet.

So much so that I held my glass of wine with them.

Socks wine

And then I spilled the wine because I can’t spread my toes apart.

My husband rocks.

Any Valentine’s Day stories out there, happy or horrific?

Filed Under: Funny Family Moments

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Jennifer Pridmore says

    February 19, 2014 at 9:16 am

    That does rock, and is waaaay better than a toothbrush. Which is what I got for Valentine’s one year. Now I buy my own chocolate. To be fair, I buy DH some too.

    Reply
  2. The Hook says

    March 1, 2014 at 7:29 am

    Socks, h’uh?
    Cool.
    Nice one, Ironic Hubby.

    Reply

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