Valentine's Day Faux Pas

It was a dark and stormy night. Not really. Actually, it was a really nice day in Abilene, Texas. Kara was doing homework, staying ahead in her studies (as she does remarkably well). I was in Houston on a recruiting trip for ACU basketball.

I woke up early Saturday morning to watch several high school teams go at it. I had written myself a note in my coaching folder, "Don't forget to buy Kara something nice for Valentine's Day." Knowing exactly how much money I had in the bank ($6.12 or something close to that), I had to be creative. Kara wasn't looking for anything extravagant. She knew I was a broke grad student, barely making ends meet.

The day went by quickly. Towards the end, about four o'clock, I went to take a break from my recruiting notes. As I walked downstairs in the gym to grab a drink, I noticed a large table with boxes and boxes of girl scout cookies. I thought to myself, "I have ten bucks cash in my pocket, and six dollars in the bank . . . girl scout cookies could work." I bought the box of thin mints cookies. Put them in my car, returned back to watch a few more hoop games.

I drove from Houston to Abilene that night, getting in real late. The next morning, I picked Kara up early to go to church. We listened to Mike Cope preach a great sermon in his "More than Thunder" series from the Gospel of John. Some of those sermons sustained in ways I can't quite explain that year.

After church, we ate a cheap lunch (she probably paid) and went back to her place. I had tons of film work to finish for our games that week, so I was going to head back to Moody Coliseum to break down the game tapes. Before Kara got out, I leaned towards the back of my car, grabbed the thin mints, turned my body towards Kara and said, "Honey, you know I don't have a lot of money . . . Happy Valentine's Day." I should note that right before this, she had given me a bunch of simple but thoughtful gifts for our upcoming honeymoon to Maui (sandals, etc.).

Typical Kara, she didn't say anything in the moment. She went inside, I went to work. The next day, I came to her house to have dinner. When I walked in, there it was: the evidence of my stupidity. In a large vase, rested a box of . . . you guessed it . . . thin mint girl scout cookies. That was Kara's way of saying, "I didn't get flowers, or a card, or chocolates, or a poem. I got girl scout cookies." In that moment, I knew how bad I'd blown it. I apologized profusely.

The next year, to make up for this disaster (hey, penance is not always a bad thing), we had seven days of Valentine's Day in our house. Seriously. Seven days of thoughtful gifts. And I promise you, I've not blown Valentine's Day since the disaster of the thin mint cookies.

Barbara Brown Taylor notes that men can be a bit stubborn at times. "Why does it take thousands of sperm to fertilize a single egg? Because the sperm refuse to stop and ask for directions."

I've learned my lesson. Taking the easy way out is never the easy way out. With Kara, I get windows of opportunity to show her I care more about her than my normal routines and impulses. I'm sure I'm not the only guy who's learned the painful lessons of romance. Any of you care to share your blunders?