Over the course of the last few weeks I've been grabbing a candy bar for my beautiful wife whenever the thought hits me.
Late last week, I grabbed two of them at a gas station.
It promised to be a chocolate s'mores bar.
I attempted to eat mine after lunch and one bite in I knew that something was wrong with it. The candy tasted old and stale.
Two bites later I got rid of it.
I was headed out of town so I just left Kathy's on the table in her room. She called me when she arrived.
"Oh I got a candy bar. S'mores. sounds good."
I didn't bother to tell her that it wasn't.
I mean, maybe I just got a bad one!
The next day I was driving home, and she called to check in. We were nearly done with the conversation when she said:
"Where'd you get that candy bar?"
I honestly thought she was asking because she found it amazing.
"I don't even know," I said.
"Well don't go back it was horrendous."
I didn't even tell her that I'd had one too. Instead I played the victim.
"I buy something nice for you, in the middle of a busy day, and you call me special to tell me how much it sucked."
I don't remember how the rest of the call went down but at the next stop there was a box of sponge candy...the prime stuff.
I bought it.
I left it on the cupboard and she saw it when she arrived home later on.
"I bought you sponge candy," I said.
"You did not," she answered as she held it in her hands.
And that MY FRIENDS...
...IS EXACTLY HOW VALENTINE'S DAY PLAYED OUT FOR ME EACH AND EVERY YEAR AS I TRIED TO DATE GIRLS.
What a stud.
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