45 years old and my husband forgot my birthday on the 27th of February. To make things worse, that very day he packed his gear and set off for a fishing trip with his mates. While he was gone, I put together a surprise that Im quite certain means hell never forget this date again.
Its become something of a quirk as my husband nears fifty he can recall to the hour when the cars due for a service, what days the lads meet to fish, and exactly when the fish start biting. But family dates? Those seem to drift straight out of his head.
Normally, Id save the day dropping hints, leaving little notes, even asking outright. But for my 45th, I wanted something different. No reminders, no pleading. I naively imagined that twenty-five years of marriage might have left an impression.
Come Friday morning, Tom was darting around the house, stuffing a rucksack with all his fishing bits.
Emma, have you seen my flask? The boys are outside waiting. Off to the Thames the weathers spot on. Ill be back Sunday, but I doubt therell be any signal.
He pecked my cheek quickly, barely looking at me.
Dont mope. Treat yourself to something nice.
And with that, the door clicked shut. I walked up to the calendar the date was circled in red. My own milestone birthday. Not only had he forgotten, hed gone out of his way to spend the day elsewhere.
First I felt a sharp sting. Then, quietly, I felt cold and curiously calm. I began to hatch a plan a way to make sure my husband, who apparently puts fishing and his friends above his wife, never makes that mistake again.
Now, Tom has a secret stash. Hes been squirrelling away money for years to buy himself a new outboard motor. The cash is hidden in the safe. Luckily, I know the code, since his flawless memory sometimes fails him.
It was a tidy sum almost £8,000. I opened the safe and made my decision.
That weekend was a first for me. I ordered in fancy catering, invited my friends, filled the house with flowers. There was music, laughter, sparkling wine. The next evening, I dined at a riverside restaurant with a view over London, and finished with a session at a lovely spa.
And for the grand finale? I finally bought the brooch Id always admired, but never allowed myself to buy, always thinking of our future plans.
On Sunday evening, Tom burst in, grinning, a bucket overflowing with fish in tow.
Well then, look what Ive brought home! What a weekend!
He stepped into the living room and froze. Empty bottles on the table, baskets of flowers in each corner, shopping bags from fancy boutiques lounging on the settee.
Whats been happening here? Have we had visitors?
We have, I replied steadily, it was my birthday. Forty-five. Remember?
He gaped at me, the colour draining from his face.
Oh, Emma I genuinely forgot. Got all caught up. You know what Im like
I do, I interrupted. Which is why I decided not to let it get to me. Sorted it myself. Picked out my own present, too.
He glanced desperately towards the study. The safe door was ajar. His face went pale as he rushed over. He returned a minute later, hollow-eyed.
The moneys gone. Its empty. Wheres my savings?
Theyre right here, I gestured around the room.
You spent the lot? That was for my new motor! Ive been saving for two years!
And Ive waited for twenty-five, I said quietly, but firmly. You forgot my milestone. I thought Id make sure you wont ever forget it again.
He slumped onto the sofa, glancing from his bucket of fish to the empty safe, then back at me. He couldnt really argue after all, technically, it was joint money.
He cleaned his fish in silence.
Six months on, hes saving up again for that motor. Now, though, his phone is packed with reminders a month before, a week before, and the day before every important date. Some lessons cost a fair bit. But this one, I think, has finally stuck.
