This morning I was catching up on reading other blogs I enjoy, one of which is Mandajuice. In her post for April 18, 2006, she included a list of things her husband does that annoy her. The whole list was funny, but when I hit No. 13, a memory popped into my head that sent me into a fit of giggles.
In 1971, we were about halfway through what would turn out to be an 18-month stint of living in Miami, Florida. My husband worked second shift at the Turkey Point nuclear power plant. We'd only been married two years at that time, so the romance was still in full bloom, and I made it a point to be awake every night when he got home from work about one a.m. Even though he ate supper at the plant, I always cooked some kind of hot snack for him when he came home and sat with him so he could relax and unwind before going to bed. My daughters were in elementary school and were always sound asleep at that time of night.
On the day that Mandajuice's post reminded me of, I'd been shopping and had made an impulse purchase of some brightly colored, sheer, sexy lingerie. In those days I was slim and trim and comfortable showing skin, so I planned to make a grand entrance and surprise my husband that night.
The magic hour arrived, and I, wrapped in my bathrobe (which covered up the new undies), greeted my husband with a hug and a kiss, fixed him a drink and a plate of something good, and settled him onto the sofa to watch "The Dick Cavett Show," another part of our routine. I waited until he had almost finished eating, then excused myself and went into the bathroom. I gave my hair and makeup a quick, final inspection, practiced my come-hither pout in the mirror, then tossed off the robe and began slinking seductively back into the living room, one hand on my hip in my best runway-model manner. I had big plans that night.
What I didn't know was that in the couple of minutes I'd been in the bathroom, my husband had taken off his big, clunky workboots and left them sitting right in front of the sofa. As I rounded the corner into the living room, he looked up and smiled in delight, and I gave him my sexiest smile right back. Maintaining "full-of-promises" eye contact, I moved towards him with my arms outstretched...and tripped over his boots, took three giant steps, and leaped over the coffee table.
I don't even remember what happened after that.