I forget things. All the time. Even important stuff, like my wife’s birthday and our anniversary.
This year, I had an idea for solving my dilemma. I set up an account with the florist, with instructions to send flowers to my wife for every important event — Mother’s Day, Valentine’s, birthday, anniversary… even the anniversary of our first date. And with each batch of flowers there was a note: “From your loving husband.”
Needless to say, I screwed it up.
On my wife’s birthday, I walked in the door, noticed the bouquet on the table, and promptly said… “Nice flowers honey! Where’d you get ’em?”