You see, we've reached that point in our relationship where he has a key to my house and he told me he needed some time alone to prepare my Valentine's Day gift. I practically squealed, conjuring up thoughts of a room romantically strewn with rose petals, or a sumptious feast of tempting low calorie delights, or arrangements of beautiful fresh cut flowers, or perhaps an inventive and creative presentation of sexy lingerie.
When I returned home at the agreed upon time, he narrowed his eyes seductively and asked me to follow him upstairs for a surprise. I held my breath, tried to remember how recently I'd shaved my legs, and meekly took his hand as he led me up the stairs. However, rather than the bedroom door, it was the bathroom door he flung open while exclaiming "TA DA!!" My eyes darted around the room seeking expensive bath oils, aroma therapy candles, luxurious face creams, perfumes, ANYTHING. He noticed my confusion and whispered "commode".
Now I'm the first to admit there were a few problems with my previous toilet in that a chunk was missing from the lid (broken off when my daughter threw a hairdryer at an ex-boyfriend), and the seat was always wonky, and the flusher thingy had to be held down forever for it to flush, AND yes, I will admit the new toilet IS lovely, with its padded seat, mother of pearl flush handle and all, but still...
I must say I thought I handled it very well, smiling broadly and making all the appropriate "ohhhh, ahhhh" noises. THEN he said, "Now it's time for your birthday present". Once again I caught my breath and tried to contain my excitement...could it possibly be the plunger of my dreams?? Ah but no, the boy came through. It was those earrings I'd none too subtley been harping about for the last few weeks...whatta guy. Think I'll keep him.
Later, I asked why he'd given me the toilet for Valentine's Day and the more romantic gift for my birthday. He replied that since he considered me his queen, I deserved a fitting throne. But, I wasn't falling for that one! He finally admitted that far be it for him to deny me the opportunity to lament to all and sundry that my boyfriend had given me a toilet for Valentine's Day. You see, he knows that in my house DQ means both Dairy Queen AND Drama Queen.