Eric and I are not a gushy, demonstrative couple. I can count on slightly over one hand the number of times I’ve received flowers. We often skip the gifts on birthdays and anniversaries. Our family’s traditions are simple and we only have a few. It is not because of lack of affection, it is just the way we are.
So, when a tradition does take hold and become really meaningful, I think it is worthwhile to note it. Thus is the ritual of the Wednesday Chocolate.
Here is the back story. Eric has always been really good about getting milk. In fact I hardly ever think to buy it because he always makes sure we are stocked up. (BTW, it is little things like this that make flowers uneccessary.) If you are wondering why this is a big deal, we go through at least a gallon a day. I am a cold cereal mom due to seminary and my picky kids survive on milk’s goodness. So, it is not good when we run out. Anyway, Eric has expanded his Wednesday night milk run to include a gift of chocolate for Sara and I. It started with just me, then he started bringing it to both of us. He tries to find something new and different each week because he knows I like dark chocolate and am loving the many different kinds that are now on the market. (tonight’s was Dove Origins from Ecuador. ) He remembers that Sara likes milk chocolate. He never forgets. Now the kids are into it. They get a kick out of hand-delivering my “Wednesday Chocolate” to me. It is a small thing, but it brings me a lot of happiness. Eric gets misjudged as a little abrasive and harsh sometimes, and I always like publicizing his deep-down goodness.
My Red Door Days 