It seems as though you and I have been in a bit of a dull routine lately. We both work all day, and me being a teacher my work often comes home with me. Long days of dealing with 30 fourth graders leave me drained and sometimes irritable.
One night you comment to me about how we hardly even have time to talk anymore. I agree with you, and apologize for being a bit distant. It's just that I'm so tired, and my job is very demanding at the moment. It's report card time!
You smile, and kiss me lightly, telling me not to worry. You have some ideas for spicing things up between us. I smile, and we go to sleep in each other's arms. I think nothing more of your comments.
The next day is a Friday, the thankful end of a hellacious school week. My class is typically rambunctious, in anticipation of the weekend, but the day passes normally. I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend, now that my report cards are done.
The 3 pm dismissal bell sends the kids stampeding, and by 3:20 the halls are quiet. I sit at my desk, preparing next week's daybook, organizing papers for grading, and gathering together the report cards to drop off at the office.
At 4:30, just as I'm about ready to call it a day, you appear at the door of my classroom with a basket in hand. I smile. "What a nice surprise," I say.
"I thought you deserved a reward for working so hard lately. I thought we could celebrate the end of report card hell." With that, you put the basket on my desk and close the classroom door. With a gleam in your eye, you lock it as well.