After admitting last week I am quite unromantic, and well, feeling somewhat bad my better half always exceeds me in anything thoughtful or romantic, I decided to attempt an intervention on myself. We’re headed to the Big Apple next week for four whole days and three long, wonderful, uninterrupted nights and I wanted to pack up something especially thoughtful (in the way of the belly) for the journey. Unfortunately, I do not think any amount of bribes or sharing would persuade airport security to give us a break enabling us a non-packaged snack mid-flight. Thinking on my feet, like I do, and being in love with anyone willing and ready to make a celebration longer than it was intended to be (i.e. birthday celebrations spread out at least a week in each direction instead of crammed in one long weekend) I made our anniversary, ahem our fifth anniversary, begin a whole week early.
I’m starting with chocolate pudding — a little obsession of my husbands. He’s a big lover of the snack packs and in my somewhat pretentious disdain for the one-noted goop filled cartons I let him grab them without the faintest thought of making it for him myself. I’m not a big chocolate lover to begin with (surely I must be damaged) and pudding, frankly, is just not that wow-ing to make me change my mind on chocolate or the fact that pudding is boring. It reminds me of school lunches and a childhood bereft of excellent chocolate goods, my own damaged fault I’m sure. But here I am, trying to be a thoughtful un-standard-male-like girl and wife and it struck me that I could make him something so much greater and deeper and intense than the instant packages we very rarely bring home.