"For me and Michael, Valentine’s is a bit of an anniversary, marking our first date and our first kiss (which was completely his fault, the schemer) so Michael is always in charge of cooking us a fancy dinner that day."
It's true that Valentine's is a bit of an anniversary and it's true that I'm always in charge of cooking a fancy dinner that day. What I dispute is the allegation that our first Valentine's was even intended as a date and that the kiss was even my fault. As I present my case, I'm sure that you'll agree that the culprit is often the first to cast accusations...
We sat around a large table in the Loeb Building of Carleton University. There were about a dozen students, all studying. We all knew each other because we were all in the same program. Someone broke the silence by asking, "Are you guys doing anything for Valentine's Day?"
One by one, the people at the table told of their Valentine's plans. My girlfriend and I had broken-up the previous month, so I wasn't doing anything. Everyone else at the table had plans except for Fawn. Fawn's situation was similar to mine so I suggested that we get together for dinner. I would cook.
I'd been to Fawn's before. I'd spent a lot of time there during the Ice Storm. We were friends, and I thought that it would be nicer to do something for Valentine's Day than it would be to stay home and do nothing at all.
Fawn politely declined my offer, explaining that she had already committed to spending the night with her sister and roommate.
"That's fine," I responded, "I can cook dinner for them, too."
With some hesitation, she agreed. It was to be a dinner with friends. I hadn't meant it in any other way.
Valentine's Day came and I arrived to cook the meal. I prepared Cornish hens with a red currant glaze on a bed of wild rice and vegetables. The food was accompanied by a sparkling fruit juice and some good big band music playing softly in the background.
After we ate, Fawn's roommate retired to her room to study. I suggested to Fawn and her sister that we listen to an audio drama. I really liked listening to audio dramas and old-time radio shows, and had a tape of one with me. It think it was Ray Bradbury's "A Sound of Thunder".
We lit a candle on the coffee table and turned out the lights. The light from the city and from their old audio system cast a soft glow across the room.
Fawn invited me to put my head in her lap for a head scratch. Now, this might seem like a rather intimate thing to do, but almost everyone I knew, knew that I liked to have my head scratched. There were a few friends who were kind enough to scratch my head in class or in the halls. It's not that I was being a head-scratch slut or begging to have my head scratched, it's just something that I enjoyed and something that some girls liked to do.
The audio drama ended, so we flipped the tape to side B. Fawn's sister fell asleep on the couch about half-way through, but we kept listening. I was enjoying the continuation of a very excellent head scratch and felt very relaxed.
I was so relaxed, in fact, that I was nearly asleep when the second story ended. To thank Fawn for the wonderful extended scratching, I reached up to scratch the back of her head. Then, to my astonishment, she bent down and kissed me!
I'll end the story here, because I think that the evidence is sufficient for you to draw your own conclusions about whether I was:
- GUILTY - a devious mastermind who concocted a "date" scheme to win a girl's heart like some sort of prize, or
- NOT-GUILTY - an unwitting young man who cooked a meal for friends one evening and unexpectedly found himself on the receiving end of a very nice kiss .
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what is your verdict?
Michael, where's the romance!? Even if the events you describe are true is there anything wrong with letting your wife feel that you really just couldn't resist her? That this was all and elaborate ploy to kiss her, make her fall in love with you, move her across the country and become the father to her children. Sheesh. Sometimes even you shock me!
Honestly, I really don't want my wife to become the father of my children. Mother, yes, but not their father. That's my job.
Thank you, Lindsay! I sort of alluded to that very thing in my response to this silliness:
And Michael, if you read the comment properly, you can see that she's referrin to YOU becoming the father to MY children.
Michael.....good grief! We all know you were crazy about Fawn long before she FINALLY agreed to go out with you, and even though you may not have PLANNED for things to go as well as they did, you certainly HOPED it would!!!!
Lucky for all of us things turned out so well.
I find this amusing :) My husband & I have a conflictng story that leads up to our first... I say he stood me up on our first date, He claims he didn't!! We could equally convince you, if given the chance, that we are right in our recollections! In the end, BOTH stories are fun to hear & share an ending rich in common ground - twins!! Ain't love great ;)
PS: Ya gotta love a man that can cook, weather a devious mastermind OR an unwitting young creature...
I don't know, I can't get the phrase "head-scratch slut" out of my head!!!
Perhaps the whole "head scratching" thing was just Michael's way of making a move! :)
...I don't know, I went to high school with Mike, and I would have to agree that he is pretty clueless when it comes to when someone liked him. No matter how much he likes someone he doesn't pick up signs very well :) He puts them out, but he doesn't pick them up....I know a few girls who weren't brave enough to lean forward, and clue him in, that is what makes you two perfect for eachother.
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