a broom full of chili.

so our valentine date was beyond lovely. it was beyond simple too, which for me contributed a large chunk of the loveliness.

hubby was decked out in his favorite powder blue polo, those dark jeans that make my palms all sweaty (just keepin' it real) and his beloved leather flip flops. i opted for my favorite taupe gap turtleneck, a long teal cardigan, jeans and leopard print ballet flats that i practically stole from the gap outlet last summer ($2.99. seriously.). i include this tidbit so you understand just how simple i mean.

we're not fancy, dress up-y people by any stretch of the imagination. if he can't wear jeans, my hubby's probably not going. he does have a few nice pairs of slacks and a couple of good suits (and ties too!) for special occasions, but they definitely aren't part of his regular rotation.

back to our date though ... we left for dinner about 5:30 in hopes of beating most of the crowds and actually managed to avoid any kind of wait at the restaurant. (we got there at just the right time - a line had formed out the door before we even had our drinks. score!)

our dinner destination was a new mongolian grill here in town, and we both loved it. you get a bowl and then go through a line to choose everything you want - proteins, veggies, seasonings and sauce and then hand it to one of the guys behind the grill to cook. at that point you also choose a starch - steamed or fried rice, noodles, tortillas, etc.

the first time was a little intimidating for a girl who likes to find something she likes at a place and then order the same thing every time she goes. i grabbed whatever i thought looked good and totally guessed on the seasonings and sauce and just hoped it would all work together.

oh. my. YUM.

i couldn't tell you what all ended up in that bowl if i tried, but i know i'm still thinking about it more than 48 hours later. hubby was equally smitten with his concoction, and we already have plans to go back this weekend with some friends. my tummy is super excited, but i'm sure the weight watchers app on my phone is ...... not.

i waived the white flag about three quarters of the way through my bowl, but my go-for-the-gold husband polished his off with only minimal abdominal or esophageal rebellion. then he had the nerve to order some kind of molten chocolate cake. (which was only so-so ... i can spot a frozen dessert at a hundred paces. but. it was still chocolate, and it would have been a pity to waste it.) that i somehow ate at least (read: definitely more) than half of. the fact that i was even physiologically able to ingest so much food left me with the only explanation that really makes sense:

there must be some kind of second stomach/tank/receptacle area in the body that is reserved only for chocolate.

and mine must be uncharacteristically large.

we enjoyed a blissfully low-key supper, one free of the standard half dozen trips to the restroom, flying salt and pepper shakers and a knife-obsessed three year old.

as we waddled back out the car we kicked around the idea of seeing a movie but quickly decided neither of us would be able to stay awake that long. we opted instead for a quick trip to the mall. (please don't be jealous of our high profile evening on the town. i know you must be positively green with envy.)

you may remember that i had gifted hubby with two valentines already: a dumb xbox game and a dumb xbox headset. both of which he adored.

he, however, had yet to purchase anything for moi. which was totally, swear-on-a-stack-of-diet-dr.-peppers fine with me. beyond a new bottle of perfume (which i have zero shame in buying for myself), i'm pretty content. but when we walked into dillard's to find a massive shoe sale i certainly didn't hesitate when he suggested i look around a little.

i walked out with a cute pair of metallic gold flats with big buckles on the toes for 70% less than they were originally priced. and with a secret intent to go back tomorrow when i can more fully investigate the situation. alone.

we made a final sashay through the gap (nothing terribly exciting to report there - except maybe for the extra % off of girls' sale items. another situation that i'll be fact-finding tomorrow. will keep you posted.) and decided to head on home. (read: i stuffed myself stupid and wanted out of those jeans. immediately.)

hubby took the long way back to the house and we enjoyed a little quiet time and got a little mushy reminiscing about all of our valentines past. (this was our 10th one together.) total dorks.

our little date barely lasted two hours, but it was long enough to remind me of all the reasons i love that man of mine so much. we got home, got comfortable and were sound asleep by 10. (well, one of us was asleep by 10. the other one was up until after 1 playing black ops.)

hubby didn't have to work the next day, which meant i got about an extra half hour of sleep. i drug myself up with just enough time to get ready and allow for a stop at sonic on my way to school.

on my way through the kitchen to let the boys out for their morning stroll i decided some leftover turkey chili sounded good for lunch and grabbed the (nearly full) casserole dish out of the fridge. i put it on the counter and tried to take off the lid, but nothing budged. .... so i pulled on it a little harder and still no dice.

the tragedy that befell me immediately following that moment can only be attributed to the disastrous combination of my early-morning deficit in fine motor skills and my early-morning propensity to instant rage at the drop of a hat - or in this case, the drop ... er, shattercrashexplosion ... of a ceramic casserole full of once delicious, but now totally disgusting, chili.

the third time i yanked on the lid, i managed to sling the entire thing frisbee-style across my kitchen. in hindsight, i probably had time to catch it before it ricocheted off the laundry room door and exploded all over the floor, but instead i just stood there in shock.

i don't' think i moved a muscle for at least a minute, maybe longer. everything was covered: the floor, the rug, the white cabinets (there was even chili inside some of them that i didn't find until today. sick.), the microwave (which is a good 5 feet off the ground in its little cabinet - just wanted to give you an idea of the breadth of the splatter), the top of the stove, the oven door, the door to the laundry room, the front of the washing machine (which was at least 7 or 8 feet from the point of impact), the side and front of the fridge, my entire right leg and both socks. (thanks be to Him that i wore socks the night before. chili between my bare toes before dawn would surely have done me in.)

the boys were still in the backyard and thankfully weren't able to track the goo from one end of the house to the other. (again, thanks be to Him.) i squished my way to the laundry room and stripped off my now soaked-through pants and socks. take a moment before we move on to enjoy that mental picture if you will - me with my greasy, dust-it-matted hair, bleary eyes, still wearing my retainer, and a ratty (and probably previously stained) razorback sweatshirt pulled down as far as the rapidly deteriorating threads would allow to cover my now pants-less lower half.

i was absolutely stunning.

i checked the clock, and by this time i had zero cushion in my schedule - in fact, i was about 17 seconds away from being late. i knew i didn't have time to clean up, get dressed and get to work.

so, i did the only thing i could think to do at the moment short of lighting the place on fire .... i woke up my poor husband on his only day off this week and begged him to clean up the mess. i tried to whisper and only poked him slightly, but the pungent combination of retainer-enhanced morning breath and cold chili startled the poor fella.

after he had a second to sit up and process the carnage all around him (not the least of which being my appearance), that sweet man got out of bed, kissed my forehead (probably the only spot that didn't smell or wasn't covered in congealed meat), told me to get dressed and then spent the next 45 minutes wiping and scooping and scouring and sweeping and mopping. and he took out all the trash. and he plugged in the scentsy. all without a single complaint or nasty comment muttered under his breath.

i peeked in the kitchen to check on him when i got out of the shower, and at that single moment, as he was sweeping another broomful of chili into the dust pan, i realized i'd never loved him more than i did right then.

forget the flowers, forget the chocolate, forget the bottles of perfume (not really - i don't want to live a life without brighton.) ... that kind of mr. clean-inspired chivalry is what romance is all about.

then he came in the bathroom while i was fighting with my hair (read: teasing it so hard i left indentations in my scalp), laid a $5 on the vanity and told me to make sure i stopped at sonic on my way to work.

God bless him. yet again.

it almost makes me hate black ops just a little bit less. but not quite.

i can only hope each one of you pretty girls is lucky enough to find someone like this someday.

love & i've gone a whole week without perfume,