I’m not one to complain, but my heart is aching from the lack of attention I get from my husband of 32 years.
St. Valentine didn’t come down my chimney this week. Here I was shamelessly dressed in a sparkling red bra, red lace panties and red stiletto hooker heels, and no one came home in time to notice. Of course, I was properly hidden beneath three quilts and a Husky, as I slyly awaited the arrival of the love of my life, a bouquet of roses and a bottle of champagne in his hands.
I tired of the vamp outfit and at 7 p.m. I climbed into my flannel pajamas. My tow truck driver hubby showed up at 8 p.m. hungry, greasy and without as much as a box of chocolates from the Dollar Tree. This is not a one-time exercise of romantic cruelty; it’s been ongoing since our honeymoon.
Is this one of those times when I should have asserted myself – explained in detail my wants, needs, and irritations? Or is this going to be another one of your Silence is Golden suggestions?
Hearts and Flowers in Cedarpines Park
Dear Hearts and Flowers,
Here at the knotty pine cabin, we forego the hearts, chocolate, flowers and an expensive dinner out to celebrate V-Day. Instead we splurge on an expensive bottle of wine, Chinese take-out from Agua Fria, and the annual viewing of the 1953 release of The Titanic. No one here wears a red bra; we both know what happens at the end and we both know the words to “Nearer My God to Thee”
On a serious note: shame on your husband. I shall assume that he has had no marital nookie this week. Keep it up, woman! No nookie, no birthday cake and no Christmas presents. Tit for Tat! Maybe he’ll get the idea . . .or maybe not.
Send your questions for Sidney to [email protected] or by snail mail to Dear Sidney, The Alpine Mountaineer, P.O. Box 4572, Crestline, CA 92325.
This advice is intended for entertainment purposes only. No animals were harmed in the writing of this column.