Last night I was surprised by a very adorable rose arrangement by my very romantic and wonderful husband. Joey brought it up just as I was walking out and we somehow crossed paths… So he called me and said “where are you, I’m sitting at your desk…” and I had to come back in, blushing like a tomato. Everyone, of course, was standing around gushing over my lovely flowers, which only caused me to blush more. I have them sitting right next to me and, perhaps, will take a picture of them this afternoon. It’s the prettiest flower arrangement I’ve ever had before.

After the blushing incident, we headed to Maggiano’s for dinner, thanks to our SF group. We had a delicious, romantic meal and a rather rude server. We decided we didn’t care about him, though, because we were celebrating our anniversary.

Our food came, Joey ordered fettuccine alfredo and I got chicken saltimbocca, and Joey’s looked delish.

“Can I try a bite?” I asked. He wound a forkful up for me and handed the fork to me. Just as I was getting ready to eat it, I lost my grip on the fork and flicked alfredo sauce on my grey silk jacket.

“NO!” I wailed, dabbing my jacket with a napkin.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Joey shook his head. “I mean, I had it all ready for you…” My poor husband, he can’t take me anywhere.

Our meal continued in relative uneventfulness. We ordered some majorly huge chocolate cake for dessert (we have half of it in our freezer at home, it was that big…we’re saving it for next week). Our semi-rude waiter set it in front of us and Joey cut me a slice to put on my tiny little dessert plate.

I waited until he had a piece and then, carefully, I got a bit on my fork. I raised it to my mouth and then….

“What—what was that?!” Joey gasped. “Did you just….drool?”

Yes, I had. And on my grey silk jacket again.

“It’s…it’s like Pavlov,” I stuttered in shock.

“The cake was so tasty that you drooled.” Joey stated.

“That is correct,” I wailed as quietly as possible.

“We are going to have to get that jacket dry cleaned…” Joey said. “And now I’m going to start calling you Droolface instead of Dollface. You are a mess.”

And so that’s how the last day of our third year of marriage went. We ate at Maggiano’s and I made a mess of my jacket. I think I understand why Pops and Gramps feel real sorry for Joey…he’s got twice the normal husband’s job.