Since our anniversary is two weeks after, we keep Valentine's Day simple. I receive a bouquet of roses and he gets a little something. This year, a golf shirt I knew he had been wanting.
Last year on Valentine's Day he had to work late. When he finally left work, he still needed to find the annual bouquet of roses. He stopped by several stores, all of which were sold out. As he left the last store, a guy selling flowers from his van approached and asked if he needed some roses. The man had saved his evening. He brought home the pretty bouquet of red roses which I immediately unwrapped and placed into a vase. Something made me count them only to find there were just 11 roses in the dozen that he had purchased. We had a good laugh that year and I enjoyed my 11 roses just as much as the dozen I had received the year before.
This year he was much more prepared. I was surprised when I came home from work for lunch to this bouquet of roses sitting on the kitchen table. He had ordered them from a floral store. They were beautiful. Thinking back to what happened last year, I counted the roses as I breathed in their lovely scent. One, two three...nine, ten, eleven. "That can't be right." I counted again. ELEVEN. There were only eleven roses in the vase. I called him to thank him for the eleven roses. He thought I was kidding. He had ordered a dozen roses. I counted one last time. Eleven beautiful roses in the vase. It was meant to be. I think eleven is our lucky number. I love you times eleven!