My Guilt Bouquet

Our grocery store has a flower shop near the registers.  It is a bright and colorful place and every once in a while before I check out, I like to pick up a surprise for my wife.

Today, they didn’t have my usual flowers – but nothing says spring like Daisies.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed when I brought them through the door, “a guilt bouquet.”

This is not what I expected so I had to think fast.  Was there something I should feel guilty about? A couple of candidates quickly came to mind but none that would rate a bouquet.

Playing for time, I put on my best hang-dog expression and meekly uttered a heart-felt, “Sorry.”

“For what?” she asked.

I figured I would begin by bidding low.

“Well…. I didn’t shave all last week and I know how you hate that.” She says my face feels like the bristle-end of a broom.

“And for that you bought me a guilt bouquet?” she wanted to know.

“Probably not,” I had to admit, “but I am also sorry I tossed your jeans into the dryer after you warned me not to. I guess I forgot.”

She fumed on that one for awhile.

“They were my favorite pair,” she said, “ but shrinking jeans earns you a trip to the department store, not the flower shop.”

I tried veering into dangerous territory – because salvation occasionally dwells there.

“Sorry I went bar hopping with Stan last week,” I said and I truly was, Stan mooched off me all night.  He claimed he forgot his wallet.

“And?”

“And I apologize for not calling to tell you about it beforehand.”

“You told me you texted me,” she said, “Was that a lie?”

Oh crap, I just stepped all over myself. This was going from bad to worse. I had to nip this guilt bouquet in the bud.

“Spare me the humiliation,” I said, “tell me what I should apologize for.”

She knew she had me but she also knew this was the end of the line and I was not going to offer any more confessions.

“Scrabble,” she said.

Oh crap, that was it!

Because of a blizzard she spent an entire workday at home. It started out well. She slept late and busied herself with quilting and pretty much let me do my thing until around mid-afternoon when she got bored.

That is when she pleaded with me to play Scrabble.

I hate Scrabble.

She knows I hate Scrabble

But she also knows that I play Scrabble with her because it makes her happy, so I promised to do it – then quickly scurried out to the shed to hide.

THAT rated a bouquet.

“I am sorry,” I told her and I truly was but then I said, “to be honest, I just picked up Daisies to surprise you with something nice and forgot all about making an apology.”

“I knew that,” she said, “when you are guilty, you bring roses.”

I do – but the store was plumb out of roses.

I guess a lot of guys had been hiding in their sheds last week.