
Friday morning was not a good morning for this little girl.
I had to work, but was looking forward to the afternoon off.
I called Kevin to tell him how beautiful the day was at 8:30 that morning.
The sun was shining and the sky was blue.
I asked if he could take the afternoon off with me as and maybe we could do lunch on the water. He quickly said "yes".
So 12:00p.m. gets here and Kevin calls:
Kevin: Hey
Jeanna: Hey
Kevin: How are you?
Jeanna: alright *in a very bitchy tone*
Kevin: You ok?
Jeanna: Ok just ill.
Kevin: Personalities? *this means he listens when I talk*
Jeanna: Uh, yeah, i am leaving in 30, I will tell you then.
Kevin: K, bye!
Jeanna: Bye
A frustrated, irratated, and fuming Jeanna leaves the office, finally at 12:45 p.m.
She gets in her car, calls her beau and begins to vent......
After a few minutes of venting, I calm down and say:
"Sorry, this is the last I will talk about it, promise, let's go have a good day!"
So I head to my condo to get ready for a fun date day with my Kevin.
I arrive on this Friday afternoon at Kevin's with the door wide open and him standing there waiting on me.
I walk through the door and there, on the counter, are these beautiful roses.
I smile from ear to ear and Kevin says "Since you were having a bad day I wanted to go ahead and give you them."
After I gave him a huge kiss.... we continue on to The Boatyard for lunch.
At lunch I asked Kevin why he decided to give me them today other than me being in a bad mood and he told me to ALWAYS expect the unexpected with him.
He goes on to tell the story of being in the bank and asking the women where he should get the flowers...... and how it only took him a few seconds to pick them out once he got there....
As Kevin goes on and on... I look at him and the smile on his face and I smile. I smile because I just realized how proud he was of himself. And that made my day. I love how men get so excited and the pride of doing something good for their women rushes all over their face.
I think that is the best part about Valentine's Day.

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