Frank and I were watching Oprah Monday (yes, he will watch tv with me so he can gripe about it), and it was a really bad Oprah, one about sex, but we are really bad people so we were watching it so we could talk about what freaks they were. Anyway, we were watching the bad Oprah and one teeny tiny part of the very bad sex show was about how the woman always was in control in their home about everything (this part wasn't exactly about the sex). The therapist had her husband completely plan a date, even pick out her clothes, without her knowing anything about where they were going or what they were doing. I told Frank that I thought that would be so cool to have him plan a date like that (but maybe not pick out my clothes!). He said no way, I couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. And he may be right. I always want to know exactly what is going on...I can't even stand to have to wait for Birthday and Christmas surprises. Whenever we go anywhere, I plan everything...except where to eat in Milledgeville, because I feel so guilty when the food isn't good. (Like it's my fault or something.) But I think the idea of him planning a date is so romantic. But then again, will what he actually planned be as romantic as the idea of it? I mean, duckhunting in the freezing cold may light his fire, but not mine! Hmmm, it's great in theory, but maybe we shouldn't mess with our successful system. I do the planning, and he goes along with it...kinda like watching Oprah.
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