Monday, August 22, 2011

By the way, I am not a three letter delight.

Eric and I are eternally broke.  I believe I've eluded to this in a past blog when asking for a direct contact to Bill Gates.  Since the only connection we received was a friend's brother working for Microsoft (close but not close enough), we will have to continue with our quest for the ever elusive winning lottery ticket.  The reason I bring this up is because once again, we could not afford to give each other anniversary gifts.  Yes, we buy each other lovely cards and whisper sweet nothings but just once, I would love to go to a restaurant without holding my breath when they run the credit card through. 

We have homemade "Honey Do" coupons stocked up to last a lifetime.  In fact, Eric asked me just last night why I haven't cashed in any of my Mother's Day coupons.  I recall specifically that one was for a foot massage.  I had to grin.  He asked me this while he was rubbing my feet.

Please believe me when I say that I'm not feeling sorry for myself.  I'm just stating the facts.  When I realize how much we have compared to others, well - there's no comparison.  Plus, we're together and happy.  We can laugh through it all.

This anniversary instead of homemade coupons, he splurged and purchased a little book of "sexy" coupons.  We haven't quite attacked them with as much vigor and lust as we might have ten years ago but eventually we'll start getting through them.  They're funny in that they're scratch off tickets and neither one of us knows what to expect.

The other night, I chose one and it said something to the effect of, "Tonight you will be provided with a three letter delight."  Then I was to scratch it off and see the answer.  This is how we assumed it would read:

Bri:    Rub (seriously, I was so tired and sore that's all I could think of)
Eric:  Sex  (this made a lot more sense, but obviously based on my answer...)

When I scratched it off it read:  "You".  Eric and I could not stop laughing.  Really?  What the Hell did this mean?  By the way, I am not a three letter delight.  Well, at this point at least we knew what each other wanted.  Poor dude.  It was going to be another solitary night on his anniversary but at least I'd be there cheering him on.  As long as he rubbed me first we'd make a very nice evening of it. 
 

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