Chuck and I recently celebrated our 10th anniversary. The day itself was okay. We sent the boys to the babysitter, saw a horribly depressing movie (Unbroken, and yes, I read the book, but no, I was not prepared for the visual impression it would make), ate an okay lunch (they got Chuck's meat wrong and charged me for a bottled water), went shopping for new floors for the kitchen, picked up the boys from the babysitter, and then went to dinner at a friend's house. Fine.
But as we already had two adult-only trips to mark the occasion, it was totally fine that it wasn't a hugely amazing day. It was also fine that neither of us got each other a gift, because you know, enough money had already been spent.
However, winter has finally arrived. And even though our bed is now sheeted in flannel (last year's attempt at warming our bed in the winter), it's just not cutting it. So I bought us a heated mattress pad. And there you have it: the extra-long version of the story, "Why I Don't Want To Get Out of Bed."