Joey had to run to the store tonight to pick up some beef for a cookout he’s going to tomorrow; he’s bringing burgers.  He also had to pick up some cupcake liners for me, because I was in the midst of making Dulce de Leche cupcakes and, well…I miscounted.  While I waited for his imminent return, I cleaned the bathroom and dusted.  (Because that’s what every girl does when she’s in the middle of a cooking project but has to wait for her cupcake liners, duh.)

He arrived home when I was dusting the living room.  I had just taken all my Nativity figures off my end table (I keep the basic figures out all year as a reminder) when I heard the key in the lock.  I was holding Joseph (as in Mary and Joseph, not Jenna and Joseph) when Joey yelled, “CLOSE OUR EYES.”

I closed my eyes and slapped my hands over them, just to be safe.  My eyes have a tendency of popping open when I get really excited.

“WHY!!” I squealed, carefully setting Joseph down on the couch.

“Because I have a SURPRISE for you.”  I could hear Joey coming closer…closer…closer…

Finally he stopped right in front of me.  “OK, now you can open your eyes,” he said.

I was greeted by the sight of 25 pink roses, right in my face.  “WOAH, they’re beautiful!” I gushed.  “But…why?”

Joey set them down on the couch and put his hands on my shoulders.  “Because I wanted you to know that I love you.  And even though we’re starting this baby thing all over again, and it’s not even exciting this time because who knows how it will turn out or if it will even work, we will always have each other.”

He’s right.  It’s NOT exciting like it was last time.

In fact, as I was dusting and waiting for him to come home I was thinking about what happened to me yesterday.  I was looking over some papers, and one several of them was the date May 14, 2009.  I wasn’t expecting this at all, but when I saw the date I experienced a physical reaction.  I gasped (loudly) and slammed the paper down, as if that would make it go away.

I was thinking how much I wish I could change the date that we found out we were miscarrying.  I mean, I do not want to hate my wedding anniversary for the rest of my life…but I currently don’t even like to look at the date. (Much less type it.)

I related this to Joey as I stood there holding the roses.  “I wish I could brainwash myself to thinking that the miscarriage date was March 17 when I had surgery.”

“No matter what date you assign to it, May 14 will always be the day we found out,” Joey said, sagely.

“I still don’t like it,” I said.

“Well, the best things are both happy and sad,” Joey replied…trying to sound a whole lot wiser than he really was/is.

“Like what,” I asked skeptically.

“Dogs,” he blurted out.

“Dogs?” I asked.

“Yes.  Dogs die.  That’s sad.”

Helpful, Joey.  Very helpful.  Then I think he realized that was a dumb thing to say just then, because he yelled, “HENRY!!!” and Henry came jingling into the living room.

“Thanks for the roses,” I said.  He gave me a nice, comforting, we’ve-been-married-for-4-years-and-even-when-it-sucks-we-still-have-each-other kind of hug and I went into the kitchen to finish my cupcakes and put my lovely roses into water.