Jacob majestically refused to acknowledge the invisible spectre of the unbirthday, preferring instead to shoot for a romantic dinner in which I didn't have to lift a finger. Perhaps this was payback for the nice dinner I made for him the night before. Either way there's a wonderful amount of give-and-take going on, and I'm enjoying it to the fullest.
He put every string of white lights up that he could find, and even a few green ones from Christmas. He covered the ceiling of his screened-in porch with the lights and put out a low table and some cushions. He lit a single candle and poured some wine, and then surprised me with sushi.
I love Sushi. That would be putting it mildly, really. I get very enthusiastic when sushi is on the table. So we broke our funky take-out chopsticks and started choosing. I was exclaiming over all the cool choices (crab! shrimp! Oh eeeeeel! wee!) and I plucked up a bundle, dunked it in the wasabi and took a huge bite.
Yes, I was so excited I forgot to mix the wasabi with the soy sauce. I have done this before. I swear I am not a masochist.
Stabbing wasabi pain radiated right up my nose and exploded in my head.
Owies owies owies.
I covered my whole face with my napkin, my hands. I was trying to find a way to unhinge my body from the horrible pains in my head. And yet I couldn't stop laughing. Jacob didn't know if I was choking, laughing, crying or what to think. He finally stuck a glass of water in under the napkin and yelled for me to drink it.
Then I really started laughing. You know what happens if I'm laughing and I drink something?
Bridget should not be allowed out in public.
When I stopped laughing and caught my breath again Jacob started up. Laughing that is.
He laughed for a good ten minutes. AT me, not with me. So happy to be the entertainment I am.
When I regained my wonderful unladylike composure that I don't posess (keep up with me!) we continued eating only Jacob mixed the soy on my behalf. And he totally robbed me of wasabi. Thief. The food was so good and so was having another three-hour dinner.
Now if I can just make it through a day without making a spectacle of myself I would be a happy girl.
Oh, he just walked by. Still laughing. Grrrr.