Last night, Tom and I had a delicious dinner (steak, baked potatoes, and yeast rolls, with sweet tea), then we went to Yogli Mogli to get some froyo for dessert. I love my husband, and I love food.
When we sat down to eat, I jumped back up and promptly began to dance and sing the “Steak Night” song from Scrubs.
It seemed both appropriate and necessary to indicate how excited I was about the evening (and the steak).
Later, when we were leaving Yogli Mogli, Tom got a text message from his brother, Ben. It said, “Happy Anniversary Poop Ear.”
One of the things I love about Tom and Ben’s relationship is that they are always coming up with fun alternatives for names for each other. Lana and I like to participate in that exercise as well. We’ve all come up with some good nicknames. I have to say, though, that “Poop Ear” is a new one.
Anyway, my response, after laughing, was to say, “I’ve got a poop ear.”
Tom looked totally freaked out. “What does that mean? Is something wrong with you?”
I was filled with glee at his unease.
“No,” I laughed, “It means that my ears are poopy because I’ve got all this junk in them from my allergies.”
“Oh. I was worried for a second there. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know,” Tom responded.
So, overall, I would say we had an extremely romantic evening for our anniversary.
Just in case you wondered.