"Honey, exactly when was our anniversary?"
This question was posed to me when I was in the kitchen last night, fixing Lucy's medicine food. I faltered, gulped, and answered "Um...yesterday."
"Would that be the same yesterday in which you apparently had better things to do than to spend time with me?" I felt my face flush with shame.
It wasn't that I had better things to do; I cleaned most of the day, putting stuff in the shed that Todd had been after me to do for a month. I mean, heck, it was my only real day off...a day with nothing else to do.
Well, except maybe to celebrate our anniversary. A milestone that honestly just slipped my mind.
I don't know why it's been okay for Todd to forget our anniversary every year we've been together (nine, by the way, if anyone's counting), but the one year I forget, it's a major catastrophe. If I understood him right, he said it's typical Todd-behavior to forget, but for me to forget means I've simply stopped caring.
That's not true. I just...forgot.
And who can blame me? I've had a lot on my mind. My mom has been in the hospital, and will be going back in for surgery soon. I've been hounded almost every day by Todd asking me when I was going to start bringing stuff out to the shed. Plus, he was gone just last week, which meant I had the additional task of taking care of two very needy dogs, both on medication and both who wear diapers, along with my normal every day stuff.
Additionally, let's not forget the fact that Todd scheduled a date for the very next day after he arrived back from Idaho Falls...so he got in late Friday night, and had a date scheduled for Saturday. Apparently our anniversary didn't mean a whole heck of a lot to him, either, if he was scheduling dates with other women.
So, yes, I feel a bit shamed, however I don't believe it means I stopped caring. Obviously, if I still get jealous over the parade of women that springboard in and out of his life, I still care.
I'm simply just an old woman with a feeble memory and a brand new shed to fill.