40 Days of Extreme Nice.

So, I started this blog- about what a bad blogger I am- numerous weeks ago:

Man.  I'm really a useless blogger lately.  I have a number of excuses for this:

1. I'm sooooooo lazy.
2. I have a puppy.  When we were talking about it recently, Adrian was unconvinced that this is the reason for my blog drop-off (blop-off?).  Probably because he gets home at 5pm and Maggie sleeps from like- 8pm til morning.  That means she's asleep for 80% of the time Adrian is home.  And so he doesn't see her boxing Ann, or stalking and trying to eat her ponytail, or chewing her toys and clothes, and diapers.  Or sneaking in and drinking out of her potty before I have a chance to empty it (to be clear, I empty it after we wipe, wash our hands and redress.  It's not like I leave the pee-filled potty out in the open for hours.  Most of the time).
3.  I'm out of the house four nights a week.  Two nights of french class, one night of puppy-training, and one night of volunteering.  I mean working (I don't get paid much).

But really:

1. Game of Thrones.  Five books.  Every one of them longer than the last, and incredibly addictive. 

Anyways, the purpose of that post had been to discuss Adrian's upcoming birthday.  He turned forty on April 20th!  He really is the most IMPOSSIBLE person to buy for, or to plan for.  This is because he hates lots of attention and focus, and so a big 40th birthday party- with lots of singing, back-slapping and conversations about his general awesomeness- is a nightmare for him.  We couldn't be more different.  I would happily absorb all those back slaps for him.  And I love to talk about how awesome I am.  It's like, my favourite pastime.  So, anyways, we had a quiet dinner out.  No applause.

I agonized over a gift.  Given that I was still soooooo unemployed, for Adrian, really, the perfect gift would be if I had been quietly saving money for months, and then sneakily put it all against debt on his birthday.  He agreed that that would have been genius.  But I'm terrible at saving money.  I finally decided on something I called '40 days of Extreme Nice'.  For 40 days- 20 before his birthday and 20 after- he could ask for one really nice thing for me to do every day, and I'd have to do it.  Before you get all mind-guttery about it, keep in mind that post-children, there are many onerous tasks throughout a parent's daily routine that warrant intense bartering.  Who gets up first in the morning?  Whose turn is it to read stories?  I'll trade you backyard poop pick-up if you iron my shirts?  It's a constant negotiation that Adrian had an automatic 'out' of, once a day, for 40 days. 

And then a funny thing happened.  Once you give a gift, you have to follow through, even when you are tired and grumpy.  Though not always selfless acts of love ('I'll effing iron your shirts, but I'm not going to effing like it'), Acts of Extreme Nice are extremely nice, even when given somewhat begrudgingly, apparently.  They had a domino effect.  They were followed by gratitude, which was then followed by more acts of selfless generosity.  I found myself enjoying doing his chores, because it made him so happy.  Enjoying chores- that's cray-cray (as my students say.  I don't know what it means.  I presume it has something to do with crayfish). I found myself exceeding my quota of kindnesses, and Adrian would too- and he didn't even have a quota.

Anyways, my point is that I'm the best present-giver ever.  My presents are so good that they result in me not having to cook dinner.  I'm a genius.  I should write a book.