You Don’t Bring Me Flowers*


I am going to prom!

No, I have not overly embraced my cougar age. Some friends of mine are holding a prom/skating themed birthday party. I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am. I have never been to prom. I have never even been invited to prom. When I told that to Andrew he said, “Well, you are going with me.” Which, okay, does not constitute asking, per se; but, was sexy in that 50’s greaser kind of way.

I am concerned though that Andrew understands he will have to get me a corsage. In all aspects Andrew is the best boyfriend ever. That of course means he has a flaw for me to complain about (see, perfect!). Andrew does not like buying flowers. This was a great shock to me. I mean I have learned that if I want him to do something boyfriend-ish I just ask and he does it. So, when we first started dating, I asked him to make sure to buy me flowers on a surprising and irregular basis.

Perhaps he listens too well, flower purchasing has been surprisingly irregular. So, on occasion (which I am sure Andrew will exaggerate – fine, he has two flaws – to say it was relentless) I would remind him that I love getting flowers. Until, eventually, it became a “thing.” Like, there was too much pressure on his buying me flowers. I sucked the life out of the joy he might have gotten in surprising me with flowers (had he ever deigned to surprise me with buying me flowers).

This weekend my friends and I are going dress shopping. I know what kind of dress I want – but we are going to second hand stores so my expectations on the dress I get are well measured. I will let Andrew know what color the dress is as soon as I buy it so that it will be well in advance of Saturday November 3 (prom night). That way he will have plenty of time to order the corsage.

He really is the best boyfriend ever, no matter how passive-aggressive I am (hint: I just used my blog to let him know that he’d better buy me a corsage for prom).

*Babs w/Neil


Andrew, obviously, reads my blog:

It took two friends, several attempts and my breast now looks like a used dartboard, but I got my corsage! Best boyfriend ever.


3 thoughts on “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers*

  1. Pingback: Can we talk…? | klutz in my pants

  2. Pingback: klutz in my pants

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