Yesterday was Daisy's second birthday. Happy birthday, Daisy! We celebrated by letting her attack three balloons at once. It was quite the event. Daisy loves playing with balloons.
You know what's sad? I can remember my dog's birthday, but I forgot my sister's anniversary. (I'm still in the process of atoning for that monumental sin.) In fact, I remember very few dates. Let's see, there's my birthday, The Missus' birthday, our wedding anniversary, our dating anniversary, and Daisy's birthday. Those are the only dates I ever remember. I've tried remembering other dates, but I just can't. They don't stick.
When I married The Missus I really thought salvation was at hand. "Aha!" I may or may not have exclaimed. "Now that there's a woman in the house, she'll keep me straight!" Unfortunately it doesn't quite work that way. You see, although The Missus is a little better than I at remembering dates, she doesn't yet fully understand just how incompetent I really am in these matters. She still thinks that gentle reminders are enough (i.e. "Your sister's anniversary is coming up, you should probably get her a gift.") They aren't. I hate to admit it, but I need all-out nagging. Better yet, I'd love it if she'd just sign my name to a card and mail it for me. I'm more than happy to make it up to her somehow.
The trouble with that approach is it lies on a bit of a slippery slope. I mean, it's not far from having your wife buy gifts for your family members to having your wife buy gifts for herself. Boy, wouldn't that make life easier! But no, I'm not going to go there. I don't want to be that guy. Not until we've been married at least five years, anyway.
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for a couple years there I had to ask my lifepartner how old I was, theat is sad. She does take care of all that stuff for me.
I sign checks she hands to me, we go dutch on all bills though.
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