Monday (June 1st) marks our 18th wedding anniversary. I haven’t said a thing to my husband, because you see, I’m running a little experiment.

See, a few years ago my darling hubby totally blew off my birthday. He didn’t forget it – he was “too busy to get a gift or schedule any thing. And then it was too late, so we’ll celebrate it next year. Sorry. Love you.”

Yes, really.  Now, to some people that wouldn’t mean all that much. He couldn’t care less if I remembered his birthday or bought him anything at all. In MY family though; birthdays, anniversaries, christmas – they mean a lot to us. I was hurt. No, I was totally crushed! He didn’t/doesn’t get it though, because, coming from a completely dysfunctional family, he never really got fussed over or paid any attention to as a child. (I have no fear of him or his family reading this, because other than a couple of close girlfriends, no one else that I know is aware this blog even exists. I have to have SOMEWHERE to vent, don’t I?!)

Wait. I should have prefaced this with “My husband is a wonderful man“. Truth be told, in spite of this, there isn’t too much I can complain about.  I love him. He loves me, and tells me so many times a day. He’s a great daddy, and the kids adore him. He’s got a good job, and he works hard.

Still, he can be a bonehead sometimes.

But I digress. My little experiment is simply to see if he remembers our special day. I don’t expect anything grand – we normally just do a nice dinner out, and a movie, and usually he buys me flowers. He does know that I adore yellow roses. However, it’s May 28th, and he hasn’t said word one to me about it yet.

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking: “he’s going to surprise her and whisk her off to a romantic (whatever) and make her feel like a total heel for saying all this!”

But you’d be wrong.

If I had to come up with a list of things that I was unhappy about in regards to my marriage, the list would be short. Very short. But at the tippy top of that short list would be a total and absolute lack of romance. I crave it, I try to introduce it every so often… but to no avail. He just doesn’t get it. I blame his parents.

So anyway. It’s a mini-rant, but let’s call it Part One, shall we? I’ll update as we go.