Three years is a long time to be married to someone you don't like.
Luckily for me, I married Mae. Heh! Three years on and I can still remember our wedding anniversary. Men are expected to forget important dates the moment they say, "I do". So I guess I'm doing good, so far.
This year, I even remember that Mae's favourite flowers are white roses. I have always known that she likes white roses but everytime I go to a florist, for some strange reason, my mind goes blank. "What kind of flowers does your wife like?" the florist would enquire, only to be greeted by a convoluted expression on my face as I struggled to remember. "Dammit, I don't know... I'm a sucky husband... just bundle up something!"
This year however, I walked into the florist with a smug look on my face. "What kind of flowers does your wife like?" the florist enquired. "White roses," I snapped, "Hah! I bet you thought I'd forget didn't you?" Okay, so I didn't actually said that, but I meant to. However, the silly florist gave me this weird "what-kind-loser-gets-white-roses" look.
"Perhaps I could mix in some other flowers," she told me, her face all serious. I had no idea what that meant - damn florists and their flora-speak. Were white roses some kind of social faux pas? Or was the whole idea of a White Rose hand bouquet just plain... erm... plain? Details were swimming all over my head. And that's when I buckled. "Okay, okay, just give me some damn daisies!"
Sorry honey, I tried. Happy 3rd Anniversary.