jackl’s blogThe Wife’s birthday
This weekend (24/2) was The Wife’s birthday. Friends and relatives know that chaos theory has a more stable organisational quality than our household and even something as regular and expected as a birthday has the habit of spinning out of control.
This year we thought we had it licked. I, for my part, got the gift and card sorted, though somehow I always forget The Girls contribution (being 8 she has the advantage of not having to worry about her parents Birthdays). The Wife had seen a flyer for a 70s night at the Westcliff Hotel a month ago and was sure that people would be up for that as it was even on the day of her Birthday (Friday)!
Engage brain
Getting a partner a birthday gift can be a humbling experience. Not so with The Wife, she isn’t one to expect a Porsche or pearls or even potpourri! This allows for a truly unlimited number of options and so increases the ditherer’s chance of getting nothing. Luckily I appear to be getting better at making decisions. They may not be good decisions but at least I am now making them before the eleventh hour.
This year I managed to get her engagement ring mended. She first got it more than nine years ago. Nine years of gardening, horse–riding and decorating had taken their toll on it.
I went to a jeweller not far from my workplace and asked how much it would cost to repair. The man looked through his miniature magnifying glass and smiled as he reeled off the rings damage. He finished by telling me that unless it was of great sentimental value it wouldn’t be worth fixing. Oh. Still it was of sentimental value (The Wife loves to relate the story of my inept proposal) so it must be worth it!
Wrap it now!
The Girl has excellent qualities, she’s nice to animals, can be helpful when you are cleaning the house and is happy to set places for dinner however when it comes to having to do something at a particular time or else she seems to be lacking the requisite panic response.
Mummy will be back in ten minutes, we need to wrap her present and write her card now.
OK Dad I’m just feeding my dogs.
Your dogs don’t need to be fed right now, quick we have to get this done!
I’m almost finished. There Cutey whose a lovely Yorkshire Terrier then…
Your dogs are plastic. Please stop now and let’s get Mummy’s stuff sorted.
You’re mean!
Aaaaaghh!
Shockingly, as with almost every other time–limited situation like this, we just managed to put the wrapping up things away before The Wife appeared. Strike one for chaos theory.
Mealy–mouthed
Friends and family were told about the 70s night idea. A standard (meaning swimming, running, gardening, Beaver Scouts, Cub Scouts and other various meetings) couple of weeks rushed by (we even missed ‘Lost’ — the horror). I asked The Wife how the 70s night was being received. She said she hadn’t had much response. It looked bad. Swiftly she put plan B into action. The Meal Out. Unimaginative I know but you can’t fault the benefits (cooking: no, washing up: no, easy to plan: yes).
Obviously being proud of our traditional cuisine there could only be one meal option, you guessed it, the good ole Indian (as much as I like chips, even I think that they don’t say “celebration”).
The Saffron
Our local Indian restaurant is The Saffron; doesn’t look much from the outside but it’s what’s inside [my stomach] that counts. In the end we managed to get a table for eight; six guests to join us for (the Kaiser Chief's fav) a ‘Ruby’ so while not exactly a party it was enough for a cake (thanks Jan) to be produced and an impromptu out of tune ‘Happy Birthday to you’!
The guest list was:
- The Father–in–Law (Vic) and his wife (Chris)
- The Step Sister–in–Law (Jan) and her Husband (Andy)
- Our friends, Ros and Malc
Strangely the usual chaotic tidy up/get The Girl ready for the baby–sitter/get ourselves ready to go out, while not going precisely to plan did seem to go to time! We got to the restaurant well before any of the guests. This, in my book, is worthy of celebration ;-) Stike two for chaos theory.
The Wife got some more cards and gifts, I got a couple of Cobras (lager) and the Father–in–Law got a couple of photos (which need reviewing before I publish them here). A good time/meal was had by all.
The day after
Surprisingly the morning after didn’t consist of tip–toeing around slowly while telling The Girl to whisper as Mummy and Daddy had a headache. Bonus. Today (Saturday) was also The Wife’s Birthday part II: the NGF and partner (Nicky) where coming round for a take–away pizza (ooh the decadence).
The NGF’s new fitness regime was obviously in full swing as he was recovering from flu (probably accounts for the recent ‘hillarious’ comments ;-). However he was well enough now to partake in a Fosters or two, tell me how much he’s enjoying his new MTB and deliberating over which of my favourite chocolates he’d eat.
The Girl, always happy to see Aunty Nicky (NGFs partner) was in her element and it was hugs all round. The NGF and Aunty Nicky even got to see the luminous stars in her bedroom and made all the right ‘firework–night’ noises.
A pleasant time was had by all. Strike three for chaos theory.
Party people
Just recently I feel like a lower–middle class F Scott Fitzgerald, by which I mean that I have been socialising on a scale that demands fitness just to keep up, not that I can write a half decent novel.
We (The Wife and I) are down for another Indian meal (Tuesday) to help a friend on her way to the London Marathon… (go Karen) and next Saturday (3 March) we should be at the Benfleet Running Clubs Presentation night do at Hollywoods Restaurant. At this point I would like to thank our baby–sitters — Kerry and her boyfriend and, of course, The Father–in–Law for his continued (free of charge) baby–sitting skills. It is very much appreciated.
After all these nights out I think that March may settle down to the more usual ‘blue moon’ evening escapades (Boo). Chaos theory due to resume in 10, 9, 8…
NGF,
Even I can’t believe you haven’t heard this one. In fact I think you’re lying so that I have to commit it to the Internet, still perhaps it will serve as a warning to young geeks in a similar situation.
Wedding proposals
According to The Wife the whole point of a wedding proposal is that it should be romantic. Unfortunately due to my inexperience in the whole ‘wedding proposal’ thing I thought it was all about getting engaged.
This lead to my aforementioned ‘inept proposal’. Yes I’d seen (and continue to see) romantic comedies and cutesy chick–flicks that have the most sophistically planned to the nth degree proposals. Humphrey Bogart could get away with a one–liner while down on one knee. Unfortunately the 21st century bride–to–be needs, at the very least, a sumptuous meal cooked by the groom–to–be, a short walk to the French doors just in time to see the grooms pre–ordained firework display before he’s down on one knee and whipping out the ring while popping the question.
Here we get to the next stage of my inept proposal; asking the question. This is very important and as such I hold my hand up to being lacking. I didn’t even get the almost obligatory “Will you marry me?” question right.
So in short (as it didn’t take long) below is how not to ask someone to marry you:
* Take them to a jewellers (I know most of the males will now be wondering how you are meant to get a ring you know they will like if you don’t take them to a jewellers). If you do take them to a jewellers make sure it is Tiffanies, New York not a reasonable looking one in Lakeside, Essex.
* When she is looking at engagement rings say “Do you want that one then?”
* Job done.
Following the above will guarantee every time you see any TV proposal that you will be reminded just how lame yours was.
JackL | Mar 20, 05:17 pm | #
Hang about, it’s all coming back to me now. In fact, I have a faint, uneasy recollection that I was there (which makes it even more inept!). Looking back I think I’d imagined at the time that that “D’you want one then?” was precursed by some romatic, bended-knee proposal in the few days beforehand. Ha ha – I should have known. This is up there with our school buddy Kevin H giving his missus 24 red roses for Valentine’s Day and then nothing the following year because he reckoned he was “23 years in credit”.
ngf | Mar 21, 09:00 am | #
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