“Who the hell are you?” she shot back, holding an umbrella over her curly hair, stepping back a safe distance from him.
|Notice the king pulling a dagger from behind his neck?|
Hmmm? Someone didn't like his gift?
“No, I’m serious. I don’t know you – not the foggiest idea. You’re dressed like some kind of colonial bumpkin, standing out here during a thunderstorm, with a box of candy and some soggy roses tucked under your arm. You’re scaring me. And you better leave me alone or I’ll call the sheriff!"
Ben’s smile turned upside down. He sort of knew something wasn’t right, but he had ignored his instincts. She made him so happy. He responded slowly to her confusion.
“I thought we were Ben and Aretha Franklin, happily married for 35 years? Aren’t we?”
She felt sorry for poor Ben, but she pitied even more the moron who placed them together in this dark and gloomy field. She looked down at her shoes, now lathered with mud.
“The author of this blog is a major league idiot!” she exploded, as she began to walk away from Ben. “He wrote us into this post as husband and wife without checking to see if we even lived during the same century. He’s one sorry mother.”
Aretha was almost out of range, so Ben shouted as loud as he could over the roar of the thunder. “Would you like to go on a horse and buggy ride sometime?”
She kept walking.
An anthropologist from Iowa (the best of 50 states for studying primitive human culture) examined skull fossils of early men and concluded that they clubbed one another over the head to impress females and win their emotional hearts. According to experts, primitive men apparently didn’t possess language, but you wouldn’t need the intellect of a gifted scientist to figure out the first words they eventually spoke: “Hey, that hurts!”
This ancient clubbing ritual was the precursor to Valentine’s Day. And while some men still try to impress their women by smashing other guy’s heads, most of us have transitioned to buying our gals chocolates and see-through nighties.
|It spells "LOVE." I'm a genius!|
I formed my philosophy about Valentine’s Day gifts by studying the wild kingdom, where animals dig up nuts and bugs to demonstrate love to their mates. Mammals and insects taught me to give my wife something I’ve worked hard to find, a gift that represents the intensity of my love. Seems simple, right? That’s what the male praying mantis thought while enjoying himself as he mounted his insect wife from behind, until she twisted around, bit his head off and ate it (this actually happens when the mantis mates). Apparently, the guy mantis prepared the wrong kind of beetle dinner for their anniversary.
Learn from the decapitated mantis, like I did, and devote an enormous amount of prayerful thought to selecting the perfect gift for your one-true-love.
(next post: rating gifts such as flowers and lingerie)