I hate it when people preface something they're about to say with "I'm not bragging but..." because everyone knows that means they are about to brag, big time. So I've decided to just embrace the bragging tonight. I'm going to tell you about my Valentine's Day...and I'm going to brag. I'm not going to candy coat it. My husband is ridiculously wonderful. Where shall I begin?
Friday was just another day in the interminable trial that was this week. Enter Steve with his arms full of groceries for Valentine's dinner. It was not just groceries, however, that burdened him. Check out the roses and chocolates to the left. Needless to say it was a nice little pick-me-up from a day spent cleaning, watching even more Buffy episodes, and pretty much avoiding the whole personal hygiene thing. He even sat through some Buffy episodes with me. (Adversity makes us stronger, right?)
After a late night of accomplishing very little, it was not with the most joy that I greeted the alarm this morning, but it was worth it. We went to the dog show here in Greenville where we got to hang out with all the amazingly cool Komondor people. (We even got to puppy-sit Ella the Komondor for a few minutes.) In addition to the Komondor crowd, we also got to hang out with our friend Veronica and her dog, Cash, a pointer. He is quite possibly the most affectionate dog I've ever met, so it was pretty much a love fest. (He actually gives hugs. It's something you just have to see.)
After the dog show, we came home and Steve fixed dinner, and let me tell you, the man had a plan. Lists, recipes...he even made part the first half of his sauce the night before. So shall I tell you the Valentine's Day menu at Chez Gray? Medium rare filet, crab cakes, sauteed vegetables, baked potatoes, and a very nice Cabernet Sauvignon. He may dirty up every pot, pan, and bowl we own when he cooks, but I guess you can't argue with results. Here's a picture of my plate. Unfortunately, I had already dug in before it occurred to me to take a picture.
So here I sit at my laptop, certainly ten pounds heavier, putting off homework and wondering what I did to deserve my husband. This concludes my evening of bragging. I have exorcised the demon of oversharing, and I will promptly return to my significantly less pie-eyed optimist self! I'm sure that Sardonic Sarah is simply hiding under a layer of steak and good wine.