I pulled up the website to look at flowers. There was a cute set of nothing too special wrapped in long grass swept into the shape of a heart. Not too frilly, not too girly... but lovely enough to say I love you, happy anniversary.
I texted my sister and told her I was ordering flowers. She instantly chimed back that I wasn't supposed to buy flowers, that was his job. It is what it is, I thought to myself. What the hell else do I get?
So I googled it. Pages of sales bullshit popped up. Frames, ties, and more crap that would really mean nothing. Sweeping through the words I ran across something I thought sounded interesting and quite fitting. sendapantygram.com
I looked into it further. The general idea was to send a lacy red thong along with a suggestive note. This note would lead him to a website where he could find a more explicit message. The idea/gift fit us perfectly.
I planned it all out. I wrote my notes. I ordered the delivery for the following day. I reserved a hotel room for the following evening. He would be all mine. Kids and relatives aside... the day before new years... he is all mine.
That night I packed our bag without him noticing. I packed my favorite toys, our swimsuits, toiletries, and clothes. I was so excited. I took a special trip to the liqueur store and purchased the one wine we both care and love to drink. It was all set. All that had to happen now was for the package to arrive and for me to receive his phone call asking me which hotel...
... the call never came.
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