I won’t go into all of the gory details of how it came to be Wayne and I found ourselves in the family planning aisle at Target tonight. Suffice it to say we did, and suffice it to say I saw some things that made me go “Hmmm….”

DETERMINE THE GENDER 

Since I have never been pregnant, I have never had to wonder what sex my baby will be. I knew there were tests that would tell you aside from sonograms. I didn’t know you could buy them in Target now, though.

You can. It’s called the IntelliGender Gender Prediction Kit. Interesting.

PERSONAL MASSAGERS

Small and discreet

Now you can even get personal massagers at Target! Just the fingertip versions. Very small. Very discreet. I’m surprised there hasn’t been an uproar about this.

I mean, I can’t help but wonder if Target sold male masturbation aids some group somewhere would be up in arms and calling for a removal of the product from shelves or a boycott of the store. But it’s okay for women.

Or is it?

Maybe someone somewhere will throw a stink about it once they figure it out. I can think of a whole lot of uptight women who would be shocked at the prospect of what amounts to a type of dildo for sale in a store where their kids might see it. They’d want the sale of such things to be confined to adult stores. (As long as those adult stores were nowhere near their side of town.)

I think it’s freaking hilarious. I was half-tempted to buy one myself just to say I did.

PORTABLE CONDOM CARDS

Portable Condom Card?

I had to snap a pic of this next box so I’d remember it right. (Plus, I’m lazy. It was easier to take a picture than break out a pen and scrap of paper.)

What the hell is a portable condom card?

I had to look it up when we got home. “Discreetly carry condoms wherever you go, so you’ll always have one when you need it.”

Huh. So it’s the same thing as a business card holder, just for your condoms. (Which, for some, and depending on their line of work, might be like a calling card.)

The name makes sense now, but really? Did they have to go there and come up with such a thing? Whatever happened to just keeping condoms in your wallet?

At any rate, I certainly got a lot of food for thought at Target tonight!

Yesterday started off pretty much like every other Sunday. Wayne went on his 14 mile run with the neighbor, I enjoyed my Sleeping in Sunday ritual. Later there’s always the big decision: what are we going to do for breakfast?

Since he had work to do still (he’s been working the last 2 weeks, including weekends, on a big deal) and I was craving link sausages, we decided I’d run to the store and make us breakfast at home.

So I took off, got the stuff, and came home. That’s when disaster struck –or, rather, my klutzy ways did.

I stepped wrong and my foot caught the side of our driveway…the part that’s not flush with the lawn. My ankle twisted under me as I crashed to the ground screaming.

I felt it bend funny, and could’ve swore I felt something snap. Judging by the searing pain shooting through my leg and foot I thought I’d for sure broken my ankle.

Bawling my head off like I haven’t done since I was a kid, I started screaming for help hoping Wayne would hear. Then, still laying sprawled out on the ground because it hurt so bad and I was afraid to move, my mind raced trying to figure out how what to do next.

I grabbed my cell and called home. The second Wayne answered I started screaming, “Help me! Help me! I’m outside!”

Now he says I hung up on him, but I swear he hung up. I thought he heard me and was on his way outside so I clicked off and then waited for the door to open.

And waited. And kept waiting.

“What the heck is taking him so long?” I thought.

Bear in mind, I’m still laying on the ground bawling my head off.

A few more seconds passed and still no Wayne. I called him again, this time on his cell.

“Where the hell are you? Help me! I’m outside. I fell down! I think I broke my ankle!”

“What? Where are you?”

“OUTSIDE! Get the hell out here and help me, dammit! I can’t walk!”

Finally the front door opens and when he sees me he comes racing over to help me get inside.

Later he explained that he couldn’t understand me very well the first time I called. All he knew was I was hysterical and he thought I’d been in a car accident or had somehow run over an animal.

The second he thought of that last one he started racing around the house to make sure all of our animals were inside. (Because Mr. Meow is a good one to sneak out lately without us realizing it right away.) He started panicking I’d killed one of them on accident or something.

“Why didn’t you just look outside?” I asked.

“Because I thought you were still at the store. Or on the on the road.”

I sort of understand what he’s saying, but I’m fairly sure if he called me up howling that he was outside, even if I knew he’d been at the store, I’d at least go look out the window to see what was going on.

What I should’ve done, which I didn’t think of until I was falling asleep last night, was to set off my car’s emergency honking button. Maybe that would’ve gotten him to look out the window?

It’s kind of a weird feeling thinking Wayne was also someone else’s “the one.” I always knew he was mine, for me, my other half, my pea pod mate.

But a couple weeks ago an old boyfriend (for lack of a better word, he really wasn’t a boyfriend exactly) looked me up on Facebook. That was fine. Others have too. One of Wayne’s old girlfriends looked him up too. It happens.

But then mine decided to send me a Valentine’s FB “card.” You know those apps you can forward on to people? It’s not really a card, but it was for Valentine’s on Valentine’s. Worse, it had this little kid couple on it.

Wayne flipped. And he never flips. But little kids are our thing. Specifically the little kids dressed in old-timey clothes that are usually shot in black and white and maybe one thing is color, like a rose. I know there’s an artist whose style that is. I just don’t know the name. But you can find it on cards, plaques, wall hangings, figurines, etc.

Wayne almost always gives me a card with those kids on it for birthdays, anniversaries, and, yes, Valentine’s Day. Including this past one. He has for years and years and years now. It really bothered him to see some other guy he’d never even heard of before giving me something similar.

In all honesty, I’d forgotten all about the other guy. I saw him back in college. It was just one of those things. I didn’t even remember his name! (I remembered his first name when he friended me, but I’m not sure I even knew his last name.)

But apparently it wasn’t just one of those things to him. He remembered me 20 years later.

He’s married now with 3 kids. He lives in Louisiana. It’s not like anything’s going to be rekindled.

But it brought up some dark days in Wayne and I’s early years. And hurt feelings. Wayne spent last night scrolling back through all my FB wall posts. He found all the other comments P (I’ll just call the other guy that) left…and started reading stuff into them.

I would feel the same way really. It’s kind of funny, in fact, that the shoes are reversed like this. Normally I’m the one making a mountain out of mole hill.

Anyway, so we had a big talk last night with me feeling bad and us prancing down a memory lane that really sucked. One where we broke up because Wayne refused to propose and I started seeing someone else. It was a really ugly time back before we got engaged.

There was also a girl back then in Wayne’s life who helped make those dark days darker. Not that he was seeing her necessarily. But she was a pot stirrer and she spent a lot of time stirring ours. I had this niggling feeling that if my P had contacted me, it wouldn’t be much longer before Pot Stirrer contacted Wayne. Maybe she already had.

So I said something about it. But this just made Wayne more suspicious about the P person and was I hiding more than I was letting on.

Well, then we started talking about Kelly, a girl Wayne had…I don’t even know what with back in his senior year of college. All I know is she sent him letters to his home address signed “love.” Years later he confessed that if she had been a smidge better looking he probably would’ve dumped me for her because he loved her. But nothing physical had transpired between them. But emotionally? They were tight. (Which hurts more than if they’d had sex to be honest.)

Kelly had looked him up late last year. That was cool. He actually told me about it. (After I had a niggling feeling that was going to happen and asked him if he’d heard from her yet. A few days later when she did friend him it flipped him out. I keep trying to tell him there’s something to women’s intuition and I have it but he doesn’t believe me!)

Anyway, he told me that they’d caught up. No big deal.

Until last night. During our talk hashing out all the FB  nonsense with the beau from my past, he made a comment about how she’d written something on his wall.

I never saw anything. So I went back to look, because Kelly is the one sore spot, the one threat I’ve never fully trusted has gone away.

Yes, she had written something. And Wayne can say it was nice. I see it differently.

Wayne was clearly her “one.” I knew it back then when I’d find her letters that he’d try to hide from me. I read it in her comment now.

Her very first one in their little exchange was about how she was glad we were together and how he’d said even back then I was the one.

That’s what she had focused on. Not that he was a CPA after all just like he’d set out to be or that he no longer lived in Colorado, but who he had married. And that’s all she had said.

I learned a long time ago that whatever people bring up first is what matters to them most. Wayne still mattered to her, and it was clear even from her seemingly innocuous post that she saw him as the one that got away.

She’s divorced now and you can’t tell me she didn’t look him up out of curiosity. Then come to find out he had married me…after all the volatility we knew back when she also knew him. He used to love to throw me under the bus and grumble to garner pity about how I mistreated him. (Which, in his defense, I was pretty controlling and jealous back then. A lot has since changed on that front I am happy to say.)

But he didn’t help my jealousy issue when he wouldn’t introduce me to friends like Kelly and he’d take their side over mine.

Anyway…that’s not the point. We both acted badly back then.

The point is, it kind of stung to realize he’s still her one. That he set her benchmark too.

Luckily he was very open and hid nothing when she contacted him. I think he respected that would’ve caused major problems.

Last night talking about Kelly and P, he broke down crying remembering how close he’d come to losing me forever when I walked out on him in ‘93. It reminded me how important he does view our relationship, even though he’s not always been quick to admit it.

I think we both agree that some of the drama we knew from our past just needs to stay there. We don’t want to deal with that stuff now.

However, we both agreed it makes us realize how happy we are with each other. It’s nice to catch up with people from our past, but as for the catch of our lives? We’ve got it. No regrets. No throw backs.

Well, Wayne did it up big this year. Normally we just trade cards on Valentine’s Day. But this year…he went all out!

In addition to cards (which I got Sunday morning), Valentine’s came early when he surprised me by stuffing an iPod Touch in my purse on Saturday morning! (And if you saw how little my purse is, you’d understand that “stuffed” is an understatement.)

And I say surprised because I had no clue he’d went shopping for a present. (I saw him come home with cards early in the week and accidentally found where he’d stashed them, but I didn’t see the iPod!)

I have a devil of a time buying for him come birthdays, anniversaries or Christmas. Last year for Valentine’s Day I gave him a personalized print I found in one of my catalogs.

I broke down and got it because I couldn’t drive still then. There was no way for me to get him cards. Plus, I was knee deep in chemo and still having freak outs worrying if it was working, would I recover, would I die…. I wanted something to show him how much I loved him and to express he’s my Valentine come not only February 14th but the whole year through. That print summed it up.

But this year I had nothing. I requested could we just do cards, would that be okay?

Well, it seems this year Wayne was the one affected by all we’d gone through with the hitchhiker. He knew how much I’d been wanting an iPhone or iPod Touch. (I knew I couldn’t really justify the monthy iPhone fees, but I’ve been so intrigued by all the apps and stuff.)

He said Life’s too short to deny ourselves simple pleasures. Might as well splurge a little and celebrate being able to still share our lives together.

But what was even funnier…I was a big ol’ grump to him Friday night and starting Saturday morning. I grumbled at him for leaving me on the couch when I fell asleep there Friday night –and sticking me with Murph duties.

He kind of kept chuckling. I wanted him to say sorry so it made me more mad. But instead all he said was, “You’re going to feel so sorry…”

I thought he was bluffing. No way had he gone to the trouble of getting me a present. (He had asked what I might want. I showed him a ring in this one catalog. But I knew he hadn’t ordered it.)

I never in a million years would’ve thought he’d get me an iPod Touch. I was so stoked…and he was right.

I did feel bad after. But also so excited. Wayne once again keeps me on my toes and pulls out a romantic gesture just when I think he won’t.

That husband of mine…full of surprises and spoils me rotten. It’s why I love him so!

(And the spoiling didn’t stop there. It was an almost “no dishes weekend” too. Saturday he took me out to lunch and then to Greek for dinner. I made him breakfast Sunday morning, but then he made reservations for us Sunday night at our favorite restaurant and got us my favorite appetizers: a dozen oysters on the half shell! Full tummies, a new toy, great cards, tons of hugs and kisses and rejoicing at being alive and still together…it was a Valentine’s Day for the record books!)

My husband complained to me the other day, “I’m a blogging widow.”

He’s not far off. Every free second I get anymore I’ve got my laptop fired up and I’m in front of it. When he asks what I’m doing I chortle, “Blogging.”

“How can you be blogging? You always say that, but with all the banging you’ve been doing on those keys I’d have expected 50 posts by now.”

At this point I always sigh with exasperation.

“I’m doing blogging stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” he asks haughtily. (Because he caught on to my insinuating tone that it’s far too advanced for him and his fancy CPA mind to comprehend so I have to put it as simply as possible. Doesn’t get much simpler than “stuff.”)

So I sigh again. (After all, he’s taking away from my blogging time!)

“Blogging is more than just writing posts. I’ve got to visit all the blogs I follow and leave comments. I’ve got to scan my Google alerts and Tweet the links. Oh, and speaking of Twitter, I have to scan all my lists there and see what’s going on and RT or ‘at’ followers in my responses to their Tweets. That can take up a lot of time. Then I have to stop by the Haunt Jaunts Facebook fan page and…”

“Stop right there. I’ve heard enough. That doesn’t sound like ‘blogging’ to me. That sounds like you’re goofing off.”

I release a full on “I’m very annoyed with you now” huff.

“See? That’s why I just say ’stuff.’ You don’t understand that blogging is more than just writing a post. There’s a lot of behind the scenes work.”

“Goofing off.”

This is usually when I’ve had enough. I turn back to my computer and go back to my blogging, wishing he had something to blog about. Then he’d understand.