A few months ago, J had a pretty cranky day and I sweetly suggested he get himself out on his bike to get some air and exert some energy.
(and get himself some better mood)
He biked around.
He stopped at a bar and got a beer and called me to tell me where he was.
I had the kids at home and couldn’t join him, so we chatted on the phone for a few minutes while he had a beer.
He said he was going to ride around some more and we hung up.
Fifteen minutes later, he called to tell me he booked himself a last minute massage at the local Aveda salon.
This cracks me up, because although he has a massage therapist he uses up north when he is visiting his mom, it is more of a sports massage thing than an “Aveda Salon” sort of thing.
When he got home, he sheepishly handed me a small wrapped gift.
“For putting up with me,” he said.
It was a gift certificate for a massage for me at the Aveda Salon.
It took me two months and alot of prompting to go use it and today we had been at the coffee shop next door and he walked me over to make an appointment.
I chose a facial instead of a massage and walked out of there with waxed eyebrows, a waxed upper lip, a very well cleansed pore cleaned steamed and relaxed face, compliments of J’s precious gift card to me…and with $145 worth of product, charged to my credit card.
Thank you, J.