Lowered expectations....

Sing along with me now, anyone remember the skit from MadTV called "Lowered Expectations?" It was about a video dating service that catered to people who were not, ummm, easily able to get dates.

Like Ms. Swan here. Thing is, it doesn't just happen to the Ms.Swans out there, it can happen to anyone.

I really should lower my expectations of men...there are limits it seems to what they are willing or capable of. Like before I had kids and thought that I would always have a relationship where my "partner" would do half the childcare, half the housework, half the effort in maintaining the relationship.

I should have remembered that these speeches are the 21st century version of a pick-up line. And once they have you, married, or economically intertwined or pregnant, well, those ideas go right out the door don't they? Like, why do men think they deserve the Order of Canada for changing a diaper? Or doing the dishes? Or being romantic?

At our house, we don't celebrate Valentines Day in a huge way normally, but last week husband and I had agreed that we would celebrate it this year with a little romance. We had a bottle of pink champagne from New Years, just begging to be consumed. And we had talked about presents we would buy, and doing a little romantic thing together after the kids went to bed. (This required feeding them dinner the second we walked through the door, so we could get them to bed early, and be alone.) So I raised my expectations, a lot.

And when he didn't have my present in the morning, I just figured he was going out shopping during the day, but he wasn't. Same with the rest of the night...he eventually came home, presentless, dinnerless, and not even saying he was sorry. He was busy, "working". We ended up dragging the kids out for dinner, and getting them to bed late. We drank the champagne, but it wasn't exactly romantic, since we were watching TV and then I fell asleep waiting for him to come to bed. I'm supposed to understand, and say nothing, because he's providing a nice income, and running this new business.

Well, BULLSHIT.

It's not a zero-sum game. Just because he is working doesn't mean he can't stop by a store and pick up a card, or buy me a small present. We finally have some money. He walks by dozens of nice stores on the way home. There's this new thing called the INTERNET which allows men to send their wives roses any day of the year, with just a few clicks and a credit card.

There is no earthly reason why he couldn't come through, like he promised, except that he just doesn't think it matters. He thinks that no matter what he does, I'll still be here, keeping the home fires warm, dealing with the kids, and keeping our lives together. He takes me for granted.

Well, he's going to regret it today. I'm going to go out shopping, and commit serious bank account abuse, preferably on some things he will truly hate. And tonight....tonight will be fish night. He hates fish. Yes, passive-aggressive, but deeply satisfying, however temporary.

Reality is, he agreed to celebrate it, then screwed it up all by himself.