Monday, February 15, 2016
We're Not the Romantic Type
No, my husband didn't give me a toilet for Valentine's Day. Don't be silly. He installed it for me for Valentine's Day.
Let me start by repeating the title, we are not the romantic type. Yes, every girl likes flowers and chocolates and proclamations of love, but Pat and I celebrate our love for one another every single day. Again, seriously. So, when Valentine's Day rolls around there's no need for a big production. However, I do like a reason to craft something for my honey. This year was no exception. When I found this list of 5 Cute Valentine Ideas, the wallet suggestion gave me instant inspiration.
Silhouette Cameo for Christmas. Putting his monogram on a hard case wallet would make him happy by fulfilling a need and using his gift as well. I had intended to put some items in the wallet, but figuring out how to cut the vinyl took more tries than I had anticipated. And, if you notice in the picture, I put the darn letters on upside down. Oops. He still likes it thankfully.
Dollar Valentine Stamps I carved a few weeks ago and cooked a dinner of Chicken Tikka Masala and Homemade Naan. (They were delicious! The food, not the stamps)
I'll admit that I wasn't expecting anything from Pat, but when I made it into the living room Valentine's morning, I found this sentiment on my computer.
The Walking Dead was coming on that evening than to any of his anatomy. Get your mind out of the gutter!
On the back of the card was a promise to replace Myrtle. See.... Myrtle was the toilet in the master bathroom. She wasn't in the pictures of the house tour. However, she made her presence known often.
She was named Myrtle by a dear friend after Moaning Myrtle from Harry Potter. And boy could my Myrtle holler. She made this horrible high-pitched ten-minute-long squeal EVERY TIME she was flushed. We knew after her first use that she would have to be replaced. In fact, we bought a replacement just a week or two after moving in. However, the task sat undone while a toilet in a box sat in my bedroom. And, Myrtle's squeals continued to echo through the house day after day after day.
Replacing Myrtle didn't take long (Pat had it done in less time than it took me to cook dinner), but the rewards will be long-lasting. My sanity is saved to say the least. Oh, and, I don't have to deal with a wood toilet seat any longer. Thank heavens! YUCK!!
So, despite the fact that the rest of that dark, dingily painted bathroom still needs lots of work. I don't have to hear it talk back to me anymore. True Love knows when you can't take an ugly, screaming toilet any longer, romance is not required.