mmmmm.....BACON.

At the end of a therapy session....

Patient X:  (with VERY heavy accent/Southern drawl) Ya know....you really are jest like a bacon.

Me:  (what????)   I am?   Well......thank you.    I happen to think bacon is great. 

Patient X:  A bacon is great.   Yur personality is just like a bacon......from thuh naaht sky above us. 

Me:  (has he stopped taking his meds???  oh crap....maybe he is having delusions right  now!)  

Me: (in my best calming therapist voice)  Sooooo.....tell me about the bacon from the sky.   

Patient X:  I am trying to tell you! It's like this.....you draw othahs in tuh-ward you.......like a bacon.  

Me:  Okaaaay.... Tell me a bit more about the bacon.

Patient X:  I am jest usin a figger of speech!!  ....comparin' you to a bacon--a bacon of light!

Me:  Bacon of light?  Oh...wait.....you mean beacon of light!  

Patient X:  That is what Ah said!  A bacon of light!

Me:  Well--- thank you.  That is a very nice thing to say.  And I like beacons almost as much as I like bacon.  So, thank you, thank you very much.

Bacon of Light....we really do exist.

(Maybe if it was a WET paper bag)

There are some things I am very good at doing, and others that I accomplish in just a so-so manner.  Then are the things that I am horrible at doing.  And then, just below that are those things that I cannot do at all....that are completely foreign to me.   Finding my way around the world fits into that category. I am always getting lost. I have absolutely no sense of direction.   I even get lost going to places I have been to hundreds of times, because I will miss my turn, or will be in the wrong lane and unable to turn, or will get myself all turned around somehow begin driving in the completely wrong direction.  Now, the GPS has helped a great deal.  But there are times when I do not have the GPS, or don't turn it on (because in my delusional mind I think I actually know how to get someplace).  So in any given week, I find myself, at least once or twice, driving around in a haze, wondering......Where the hell am I?  Sometimes I just keep driving until I find something familiar, sometimes I call someone ---using the phone-a-friend option.  (Dallas is usually the one to get the "Hi....I'm lost again." call). 

Part of my problem is that I tend to daydream.  Part of my problem is that I am easily distracted.  But most of my problem is that I just have no concept of spacial relations in this world.  For example, I often get lost driving around my own town.  Now it is true that I have only lived in this town, this state, and even this country for not quite 2 years.  But I can't use that as an excuse.  The same thing happens to me anywhere.  And everywhere.  All the time.  Just this week I got lost 3 times.  Made a wrong turn here and there and Voila'!  I am suddenly lost.  I have been known to use my GPS to find my way back home when I am just a few miles away.  Sad and pathetic....and true.  I am famous for turning right when I should go left, or going straight when I should be stopping (i.e. I drive right past my destination).   I pretty much have no idea where I am in relation to other things in this world.  I not only get lost when driving.....I also get disoriented in large buildings or wide open spaces....such as when walking around my own neighborhood.   Parking garages are another story....I think you probably get the picture by now.

I just recalled something my mother used to say to me when I was a kid..."Tanya, you couldn't find your way out of a paper bag."  I think she may have been onto something.

Me:  I think we are going the wrong way.  Maybe we should have turned left instead of right back there.  Should we drive back and find out?  Or just keep going?  This looks like a nice scenic route.

Ray:  I thought you said WalMart is just down the road, less than 10 minutes away.  (then quietly to himself)....I knew I should have driven.

Me: I think I was just driving this way because this is how I drive to work.  I'm going to take this road here and cut over to where we should be.

Me: (15 minutes later).... Um,  I think this road doesn't cut over.  Well, if I just keep going we will eventually get there.  It's right around here, I know it is.

Ray:  This is the third time you have gotten us lost this weekend.  How long have you lived here?

Me:  Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

Me:  Where do you want to eat lunch?

Gary: Arby's.  Is there one around here, cuz I am STARVING!! 

Me:  Yep.  Just down the street.

Gary:  Great! Cuz I get really grouchy when I am hungry....and I am way past that point now.

Gary (20 mins later sounding irritated):  Are we almost there?  I thought you said it was close!

Me:  Oh look, here it is......(pulls into Arby's)

Gary:  What the hell.....this one is closed down!  Can we just get something to eat please! (sounding angry now)

Me:  Oh, sorry....I think I know where another one is......

Gary: (15 mins later, yelling a bit)....Do you even know where you are going?  It feels like we are driving in circles.

Me:  No we aren't! We are almost there!

Me (thinking):   (Crap, where the hell are we?! I could swear I've seen that church 3 times now......)

Gary:  Admit it.  You are lost.

Me:  Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

Me:  I come to this mall every day at lunch time and I love this mall!  It is huge!  AND it has 2 really big food courts.  Can you believe it?  TWO!

Dallas:  Really?  That's different.

Me:  I know!

(after 10 mins of walking)

Me:  Look--that's the first food court.  There are so many food options there.  But let's wait til we see the second one before deciding where to eat  lunch.

Dallas: OK

Me: (after 15 more minutes of walking):  Here it is (points proudly)....the second food court!

Dallas:  (stares at me blankly)  Are you serious?

Me:  Yeah.  Why?...What?

Dallas:  This mall is laid out in a big circle....this food court is in the middle of the circle.  It is the same one we passed earlier.....we were just on the other side of the circle.

Me:  Oh.   Whatever.

*****************************************************************************

So here I my suggestions, based on my many years of experience, to those of you who may also be directionally challenged:

1.  If you have a GPS --use it!  No matter how short the distance or how easy you think it will be to get there....use it!

2.  If the GPS tells you to go a certain way, but you think you know a better way, remind yourself of your directional deficiencies and listen to the electronic genius that is stuck on your windshield.  It knows more than you.  Really.

3.  If you don't have a GPS and you stop for directions, WRITE THEM DOWN.  Also have the person draw you a map.  You will need both.

4.  When you stop for directions, ask a woman.  A man will never admit he doesn't know where something is.  So he will simply give you directions anyway.  Women are secure enough to simply say "I don't know".

5.  Do not aspire to the following careers:  mail carrier, one of those people who wheel patients around the hospital to their designated rooms, forest guide (or guide of any kind), taxi driver (or driver of any kind), or Girl Scout (you could get lost going door to door in your neighborhood selling cookies).

Getting lost as much as I do does have its advantages.  I rarely have to give anyone directions......because when I am asked how to get someplace--- if the destination is not in a four block radius of where I am standing, I will usually reply that I do not know. (which of course is true)

For those of you who are also directionally challenged.....we ought to get together and start a support group.

No, wait....nevermind......we would all get lost trying to get there.  Of course we could just meet in one of the two food courts.   

I thought I had this guitar thing nailed.

My guitar instructor informed me that I have to cut my long nails down if I want to play the guitar.   He is adamant about it. I have told him that I find him demanding and mean and that I think he uses his position of power to bully me. He said he finds me funny---that I make him laugh.  He also called me unique.  Actually, ...he didn't really say it that way.  What he said was----that in all his 20 years of teaching guitar, he has never had anyone learn to play the guitar in the unique way that I am learning to play. Not even close.  He laughed when he said it.

I am not sure I like his attitude.

So I am off..... to practice playing-----and to find some clippers.  ......and to plot how I am going to use my hypnosis skills to hypnotize my guitar teacher at my next lesson.  Make him believe that the shoes he wears each day are cute little kittens that he must pet and talk to and cuddle all day long, every day, for the entire week, ...until my next lesson.  

(I can be mean too.)

Goin' Mobile

To celebrate my birthday Dallas wanted to get me a nice gift.   Something I could surely use.  Something I don't already have.  Something that would be cool, high-tech, and modern.    A "real" cell phone.  

OK look---I never had one in Europe. Never needed one.  I had a phone at work, and one at home.  And computers everywhere.  And no one cared where I was nor were they ever desperately trying to reach me when I was en route to someplace or out somewhere or in the grocery store or sitting outside at a cafe'.   But for some reason, when we moved back to the States at the end of 2010, I suddenly needed one.  All of a sudden, it was imperative that I be reached at all times, everywhere.   So I got a phone.  It was a lovely (free) plastic flip phone.  Navy blue plastic.  No voicemail, no extra features, no camera, no internet, no apps, nothing.  Just a small plastic phone.   

I liked it.  What's not to like?  It fits in my purse easily, has a little robotic-mechanical-sounding chime for a ring, and I just pay a few pennies per call (of which I made very few).   

Now fast forward to 2012---And realize that Dallas is probably one of the most tech-savvy, gadget-loving people that I know.  He finally informed me that not only is my phone practically an antique---but that it is embarrassing.  He did not want to be seen with me when I was chatting on my navy blue plastic phone that cleverly (to me anyway) flips open.   He mentioned this several times, so that eventually I began to feel self-conscious when I would talk on it in public.  I imagined that people were staring at me and snickering at my low-tech, ridiculous phone.  I  would attempt to palm it in my hand, so that others wouldn't see the glare of the shiny plastic or bury it in my hair as I talked .   And I began to notice that I seemed to be the only person left on the planet with a cute little plastic navy blue flip phone.  

So although I was fine with the phone.  Happy with it actually----I finally gave in to Dallas and accepted his gift to me for my birthday.  A real grown up phone.  Now I have stuff.  I don't know much about this stuff---but I have all kinds of stuff on that phone.  I have something called a cheese shutter and ice cream sandwich on my phone (which apparently is very important.....and way better than the other option, which is gingerbread).  Oh and I have Gorilla Glass too!  That sounds really cool.  And now I no longer have to hide my phone in my hand or under my hair when I talk.  I can proudly talk on my phone in public, check my email, take photos of every meal I eat (a popular Facebook pastime) and receive voicemail messages even.

Now if only I can figure out how to hit the imaginary buttons on the screen.  Apparently it is not fingernail sensitive.....and my fingernails get in the way of my fingertips.  So my typing is all messed up.  And autocorrect is a big failure so I have discovered.  (I am apparently cooking dinner in my crackpot tomorrow)

So for my 49th birthday I get to learn something new, hold my head a little higher (cuz I am no longer lowering my head ---trying to hide that blue plastic phone in my hair), and get my nails cut down.   How did we ever get along without these phones?  Oh yeah....we carried change with us for the pay phone......and no one ever tried to hunt us down when we were not home.  We were not chained to the world.  It was called Freedom.  I kinda miss it. (and my navy blue plastic phone too)

Three very good reasons to leave my cell phone off while at work

The other day my cell phone rang while I was in my office.  This caught me off-guard for a number of reasons.  One--I never leave my phone on while at work (cuz nothing says "I care" like your therapist's cell phone ringing in the middle of your sharing-of-deep-dark-secrets moment).  Two--my phone is rarely used.  I think only 3 people have my number.  I use it mostly for emergencies.  And reason number Three.....well, that will be clear to you soon.    So anyway....I was really startled when it rang.  I answered--

Me: Hello?  (didn't recognize the number and had no idea who could be calling)

Guy:  Heeeeeeeey! Guess who this is!

Me: um....don't know.  no idea.

Guy:  It's RICHARD!!  

Me:  Ohhhhh...(my cousin Rich in Michigan!) Hey--how are you?  how did you get this number?

Cousin Rich:  Well you sent it to me a long time ago and I saved it all this time!  

Me: (thinking back....oh yeah---sometimes I use the phone when I am in Michigan--must have given it to him when we were making plans to meet up during one of my visits)....So how are you?  What have you been doing?

At this point the conversation goes on for about 15 minutes, each of us sharing info about our jobs and other general life stuff.  But we had a bad connection and at times it was hard to make out what he was saying. But the conversation continued.....

Me:  So what else have you been up to?  Anything fun or interesting?

Cousin Rich:  Not much really....just went on a vacation.  Took the wife to Hawaii.

Me:  (silence)  (thinking....what?  when did Rich get married?  this is weird......I never heard about him getting married. Maybe this isn't my cousin Rich.  Well then who is it dammit?  We have been talking for 20 minutes now, if it's not him I am going to be so embarrassed.)

Me:  (casually) Well, that sounds like a nice vacation.  Hey, where are you calling from?  (my clever tactic to verify that it is Cousin Rich or to find out who it is without admitting I don't know who it is.)

Possibly-Cousin-Rich:  I'm calling from Belgium!  Yeah this is great talking to you! I was just telling someone all about you the other day!

Me: (dammit!!  it is NOT cousin Rich-in-Michigan!  Ok....calm down....you can do this....you can figure out who it is and be slick about it.  He will never know that you never knew who you were talking to.....just be clever and careful.)

Me:  Hey Rich.....we have a very bad connection.  Can you call me right back on my work phone?

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Sure --give me the number.......

We hang up...Great!  now I have gained a few minutes to scour my brain and try to figure out who I know in Belgium named Rich.  Now don't be too harsh on me here......I lived in Belgium for 15 years and many of my friends and co-workers would come and go----military and civilian tours lasted from 2-5 years typically.  So in 15 years....many friends came and went.  (phone rings) Dammit!  I still can't remember anyone named Rich in Belgium!  OK, OK,  get it together....you can still do this.....

Me:  Tanya Oskey (how I answer my phone at work)

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino?  

Kim Perino!!!???????   BRAIN STALL!.......now my brain stalls and then goes immediately into overdrive.....thinking....thinking....what is happening here?????  let's see....WAIT!  I KNOW!  I stayed with Kim Perino in Washington DC for 3 months in 2010.  She gave me a phone to use....and when I left, I took her phone chip and put it in my new phone as I wanted to keep the same phone number since my job contacts all had that number.  OH MY GOD!  Not-Cousin-Rich called Kim's old number, which is now my number, and he thinks he is talking to Kim!  

Now all these thoughts fly through my mind in a millisecond.....and so back to the call from Not-Cousin-Rich.....

Me:  Tanya Oskey (how I answer my phone at work)

Not-Cousin-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino? 

Me:  (after my millisecond of horrifying realization my now-frozen brain is not working properly, so I reply with the first thing that comes into my head....)  

Me:  I'm sorry she is not here right now.  (WHAT did I just say!!??? Oh god---I am such an idiot!!)

Kim's-friend-Rich:  (sounding confused)  But I was just talking to her.....she told me to call her at this number.

Me:  (in too deep now)  Well, um, she just stepped out.  Call back later. (WHAT!!  What the hell am I saying!!)

Kim's-friend-Rich:  (sounding a bit let-down)  OK---I guess.

We hang up for the second time.

So now I sit at my desk, knowing the situation is hopeless.  What are my options?...."hey, Kim's-friend-Rich, guess what....you are really going to laugh at this......you were never talking to Kim at all!  It was just me, her friend (more-than-likely-ex-friend-now).  Isn't that a scream!"

Oh god---I can't do that.  I am an idiot.  What to do....what to do...

phone rings again.  

CRAP!

Me: Tanya Oskey

My-ex-friend-Kim's-friend-Rich:  Can I speak to Kim Perino?

Me:  She is not here.  (in waaay too deep without another plan....might as well dig deeper)

My-ex-friend-Kim's-friend-Rich: Well, when will she be back?

Me:  Not sure really, but thanks for calling. 

Poor Rich--he never got in touch with Kim.  Poor Kim--she never got her call from Rich.  

Poor me---I'm so screwed.

(and now I have that third very good reason to never leave my phone on while at work)

Hot Child in the City

My car temperature guage showed it was 112 outside on my way home from work (and it felt just as hot inside the car)..... and I thought---dammit! if only I had the foresight to toss a roast, carrots, and potatoes on my back seat this morning.......

it may not be in the dictionary

me: he wouldn't shut up. he just kept blabbling.

dallas: blabbling? is that a word? i don't think it is.

me: yes it is. 

dallas: no it's not.

me: yes it is. i made it up just now. it is a combination of blah, blah, blah....and babbling. 

BLABBLING: it's a real word

Infectious Disease Control

It's nice when you are sick and someone who cares for you really reaches out and gives you some TLC.  

Unless you live with Dallas.

I have been sick the last week.  Did I get warm chicken soup?  No.  Did I get a nice back rub?  No. Did I get my pillow fluffed?  No.  Nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Zilch.

Instead....as I roll over, body aching, head pounding, throat burning.......I see a barricade built up between our heads, made up of large white pillows.  In my foggy-headed-achy-stupor I try to make sense of what I see and eventually mumble....what the hell?

Apparently, not only do I NOT get TLC, but I also get banished to my side of the bed.  So as I struggled to fall asleep, I began wondering if I would wake up to find him dressed in a hazmat suit, sterilizing all surfaces in the room, pillow barricade now reinforced with sofa cushions ....myself huddled in a small quarantine tent built up around me....food and water slipped to me and then dishes passed back carefully through a special decontamination process.  

I understand him not wanting to get sick.  But he could at least stop spraying Lysol on everythng that I touch.  And then I noticed him removing his pillow, and then his blanket, every morning when he got out of bed.  He carefully placed them across the room.  Far away from my germs.  After he left for work, I wanted to secretly sneak over and cough all over his stuff.  And I may have just done so .....if I had been able to get out of bed. 

The good news is that my cats were very sympathetic to my plight.  They stayed by my side and laid close, letting me know that they care about how I feel.  ....Well, probably more likely they were just taking advantage of my extra-warm body and my immobility.  But I'll take what I can get.

(on the other hand......perhaps my fever is playing tricks on me, and it is Dallas who is snuggling close.  Meanwhile..... the cats are actually setting up the barricades while we're both asleep)

If there was a problem, Yo I'll solve it

Having recently returned to the US after 23 years of living overseas, I have found myself often perplexed---confused by American customs and some of the things going on around me. (i.e. they were not part of the American culture when I left the country in 1989).  For example, when did we start buying drinks at the local gas station that are no longer small, medium or large, but instead are small pitcher, big jug, and gigantic barrel sized drinks?   And when did TV begin showing commercials which tell us about some great new drug which promises to cure our depression.....but oh-by-the-way may cause our eyeballs to explode, our intestines to drop through our asses,  hair to grow on our tongues or some other minor side effect?  (all the while the commercial shows an attractive blonde woman picking flowers while a warm breeze flutters the ribbon in her hair.)  And now we have a fast food burger called The Baconator?  (Half pound of bacon, half pound of beef, a couple slabs of cheese and one ton of grease.  Yes, my European friends---this colon-choking, bacon-loaded, grease-oozing American treat is real.  I am not making this up.)

Well, all these changes have made me feel very uncool.  Out of sorts.  Unhip.   I remember my first week back, living in a hotel in Georgia.  I was on the hotel elevator with a young (very cool) guy.  He began complaining about how he had made one 10 minute phone call from his hotel phone and how the hotel had charged him some outrageous amount for the call.  I said, "Wow, that really sucks.  At least you didn't talk much longer."    He replied "WORD".   I then said the first thing that popped into my head.  I said "To ya mutha."  He looked over at me.  And I clarified.  "um...I meant...Word to ya mutha".  He smirked and said "I like your swag."   Well, I had no idea what my swag was or why he would like it, but I was pretty sure that it must be cool, since he seemed very cool.  (And, in my defense, how often does one get to quote Vanilla Ice?)  

The next day at work, in the middle of a therapy session, one of my patients asked me "By any chance, are you married to a black guy?"  Confused,  I attempted to nonchalantly look around my room to see if I had some office decoration that might make him think this.  I said to him. "No. Why?"  He then told me "Oh, I thought you were.  Cuz you got swag."

There it was again!  Immediately after the session ended I got on my computer and googled it.  I had to know what this swag was and why I had so much that people were now noticing it.   According to the Urban Dictionary...Swag is "the way in which you carry yourself. Swag is made up of your overall confidence, style, and demeanor.  Swag is a subtle thing that many strive to gain but few actually attain."   

So now I was feeling much more hip!  For a very uncool, dorky redhead, I was making progress!  (nevermind that I had to look up the meaning of a word apparently well-known by cool people.)  

And now I will continue on my quest for coolness.  It seems that it will be an ongoing struggle as I learn to adapt and eventually pick up new cool American phrases and habits.  I plan to read the Urban Dictionary in its entirety.   I'll keep you posted on how that works out.  I fear that I may just be too old-school.  But with my killa swag I might just pull it off.  Cuz that's the way I roll.

 WORD.

Way down upon the Swanee River...it's fun living in the deep South y'all!

Went kayaking in the hills of north JAW-JA.  I found a "kayak outfitter" place near the river.  It was run by Ma and Pa Kettle (not their real names....but close enough). They had ONE kayak for rent.  And their niece was on hand to help out.  She favors chain smoking Marlboros, guzzlin' Mountain Dew, and I think I saw a Moonpie poking out of her lumberjack coat pocket.  Oh, and she was sporting a beard.  Not a full beard, but I guess I would describe it as a thin, prickly-short type of beard.  .....with matching moustache.

So...back to the kayaking....the kayak trip was great.....beautiful scenery, no one else on the river, perfect weather.  We kayaked in the stillness....in the one kayak that was available.....which it turns out came complete with a small hole that slowly but surely transformed our floating boat into a small oblong swimming pool that sunk so low that it scraped along the bottom of the river.

At the end of the day we waited 45 minutes for Pa to pick us up.  In the meantime,  I talked to one of the locals who was hanging out on the small dirt road that ran along the river.  He was selling some stuff that he said he found in his basement, including some old Coke bottles, a few naked dolls (don't want to know why he had those), a pile of rusty dusty tools, and some items that were not identifiable.

I tried not to stare.......but dammit, I could not make out what the tattoo was that ran across his bare belly.  It was one of about 10 tattoos he had on his body----about seven of the ten tattoos were of women, mostly nude. So anyway, I don't know why I was straining so hard to see this one tattoo,  but I was. I felt compelled to figure out what it said.  As if maybe, possibly, it was something critically important, something significant, something meaningful.  It was on his belly after all.  The tattoo was all letters, written in some fancy script. I had to know what this important message was.  Finally I got close enough to make out the letters.  Spelled out, across his belly was......

H I L L B I L L Y

Perfect.  

Redundant.  But perfect.

Perfectly redundant.

Oh....and apparently there is no dental insurance South of the Mason-Dixon line. 

This is a woman I saw in Krakow Poland. I believe she is a distant relative of the bearded niece. 

I was run over by a vehicle!

Unbelievable!  Today a vehicle ran me over!  AND---The vehicle operator calmly looked me in the eye and asked "so, what do you like to watch on TV?"  WHILE her vehicle crushed and smashed my body! My pain was evident and all she could say was---"oh, sorry it hurts".   This story may sound incredible but it is true!  I was mashed, crushed and nearly flattened by this lady!  I am so glad this trauma is over and I can now start my recovery~ (both physical, emotional and of course mental)

And now---thankfully-- I have a year of rest........until my next mammogram.

A visit from Nana

Our 93-year-old grandma and her husband just drove across the country (MI to FLA).  Remarkable!   But what is even more remarkable is that she and her husband Bill drove there to GOLF!  You see, she is a bit of a wild woman---golfing, bowling, AND she took up with and married a younger man about 5 years ago....... (Bill is 91).

They decided to stop off in JAW-JA for a visit with us.  We had such a fun time with them! (but I think they only stopped to play cards....and for our money).  We played cards both nights.  And Bill won both nights. 

...I am a bit suspicious (card shark!).

The first night Nana informed me that she gets cold easily when sleeping.  So I gave her my nice, really heavy mink blanket (purchased in Asia).  The next morning she said the blanket was SO heavy that she couldn't move all night as she was held in place under its weight.  I told her that was intentional.....I was hoping that the blanket would act like a vice and keep her in her bed.  I  didn't want her wandering around the house in the middle of the night, getting into trouble.  And the blanket was easier than locking her door. 

She also said that our towels were too large and heavy....she couldn't get one wrapped around her tiny body.  I handed her a washcloth.

We had a great time and hope they come back again.....with some advance notice---- so I can get a not-so-heavy blanket, smaller towels, and can have some time to practice playing cards beforehand......either that or hide my wallet!

I'm feeling a little blue (a dark navy, heavy wool kinda blue)

At a Civil War Musket firing demonstration in the deep South:

Musket Firing Demonstration Person (MFDP):  (using a long, winding, barely-understandable Southern drawl) So...I am wearing the uniform of which Army?

Person in Audience (PIA):  Confederate Army!

MFDP:  Right! (audience claps and cheers)

And this musket is from which Army?

PIA:  Confederate! 

MFDP:  Right again! Very good! (audience claps and cheers)

And this Fort you are visiting was held by which side in the Civil War?

PIA:  Confederacy! 

MFDP:  Right! Excellent! Such a smart crowd! (audience claps and cheers)

And who were the ones who wore the navy blue uniforms? What were they called?

Me:  The winners! ........ (awkward silence and not-so-friendly stares)

You know, I don't think the South has quite gotten over it.

This year's Valentine proposal...

Laying in bed watching a Valentine-ish movie.....

Me:  Hey!  Wanna be my Valentine?

Him:  Sure.  (thinks a bit) What does that involve?  

Me:  Not much....treat me like a queen, do whatever I say, let me have my way and be right all the time.

Him:  Oh, ....you mean act like I do every other day of the year.

Me:  Pretty much.