A blooming dilemma for this special celebration
When it comes to Valentine’s Day tomorrow, it has some extra significance in our humble abode.
This is because it coincides with Mrs P’s last day of work. Ever. She is retiring.
I should quickly add here my beloved has not yet reached an age where she will get the pension. The niceties of decorum prevent me from revealing her specific vintage so let’s just say she is getting out 1.2579840 billion seconds early. Give or take the odd million.
The reason for this is some health issues which I’ve traversed previously, I’m sure.
Come 4.30pm tomorrow, Mrs P will bring down the curtain on a long and illustrious nursing career to take some time for herself.
Naturally, I have been thinking for some time about some sort of grand Valentine’s Day/retirement “thing” to mark the occasion.
Unfortunately, that’s all I’ve been doing about it. Thinking.
In my defence, I should point out the last year has been a bit of a nightmare and time has flown since she put her notice in.
For starters, I’ve hurt my arm. Surgery is pending but it has left me less capable than before. We’ve also had huge dramas with George the Dog who, as you may recall, is now hopping around on three legs after one was amputated.
And now, with the big day literally in my face rather than just around the corner as it has been for ages, I’ve come to the conclusion I’ve left it, shall we say, a bit late.
Obviously, I’ve discussed things with Mrs P and asked her what she wants to do and she’s played her part accordingly and told me she doesn’t want or need anything. Which, in married speak as I’m sure many of you are aware, means I want something, anything.
So, what to do?
Initially, I sought inspiration from the movies.
Those of my vintage will recall that scene in An Officer and a Gentleman where the hero, dressed in his crisp white navy uniform, marches into the factory where his working-class lady slogs away and literally carries her away to a life of everlasting love and adventure.
Perfect. I’ll do that then.
The only thing is I’m not sure my dodgy arm (or knees for that matter) would be able to assist in the carriage of Mrs P from her high-rise building. Then there’s the fact her back has been giving her jip lately and me recklessly sweeping her off her feet might cause that to go out which would definitely put paid to any other “plans” I might have for later in the evening.
Also, I’d struggled to find a crisp white, navy dress uniform and I didn’t think a white T-shirt and pair of white fleecy trackpants with the brand vertically imprinted on one leg would have the same effect. So that idea was cast aside. What about picking her up in a nice limousine and going out for dinner? I could even wear my suit and get her a bunch of roses.
Hmm. The idea has potential. Or it did.
Before I’d even looked at limousine hire, I went to the closet and pulled out my suit.
Long gone are the days when I would wear a suit daily for work. I used to have four. Now I’m down to one which only really gets to see the light of day on more formal occasions as I am now into my second full year of wearing shorts every day.
I pulled the suit out and discovered it had been sharing space in the closet with some sort of moth which had delighted in chomping through the fabric at an alarming rate. Think cartoons and that block of cheese the mouse always goes for. Full of holes.
So that idea was out too. Obviously flowers were in the mix. Aren’t they always?
I always view flowers as a lastgasp measure. I mean, you can buy them anytime and I do.
The value to a relationship of a “Happy Wednesday” bunch of something “just because” should never be underestimated fellas, mark my words.
The only thing is if you do it fairly regularly then it tends to become a bit ho-hum when you do it for the big occasions like anniversaries, birthdays, etc.
So that was out. Or partially out.
Sort of.
Now I’m really left with only one possibility.
We have recently purchased a ginormous caravan. It’s sitting on our front lawn, waiting for us to transport it to places unknown for laidback adventuring.
The only thing is I haven’t bought anything to tow it with yet.
As previously mentioned, the process has become one of paralysis by analysis. A real nightmare if I’m being honest. I’ve actually seen one I like though it is a bit over our budget.
The thing is, if I can take a deep breath, find the courage and shell out some big bucks over the next few days, I could get us a vehicle and be waiting with the hitched-up caravan outside Mrs P’s work when she walks out for the last time.
Wouldn’t that be awesome? And absolutely symbolic of the future we are planning.
The only thing is when I dropped her off at work the other day she said we’d most likely have to cut back on our spending seeing as we’d be going down to one part-time wage.
Groan. I guess that means I might have to readjust my tow vehicle spending thoughts. Again.
Oh well. Back to the old drawing board.
At this stage, she’s going to have to settle for a one-armed bloke and a three-legged dog waiting on the pavement outside with coffee and a sign that says “We love you” when she finishes.
Maybe she’ll be happy with an excited lick of her face too.
From George the Dog, that is. Not me.