Never Forget

Unconventional man that I am, I remembered my wedding anniversary today.
When this blog is eventually turned into the riveting plot of a summer blockbuster, as we have long-established that it undoubtedly will, the actor playing me (let's stick with Edward Norton for now) will no doubt be surprised to see his script insisting that he defies all Hollywood expectations and remembers important days and dates.
I am currently reading a rather fantastic novel by Mark Watson (we still haven't had that coffee, Mark) called 'Eleven', which considers the impact of our decisions, exploring the consequences of what we don't do as much as what we do do. So, for example, one character failing to successfully step in and prevent a boy being beaten up has, many steps down the line, inadvertently led to a man who had his Blackberry stolen by a fat kid with a knife accidentally sending an abusive text to his boss because he couldn't get to grips with his replacement phone when he was trying to send a message to the woman across the room he was flirting with. Sound complicated? Strangely, it really isn't and it makes an enormous amount of sense and leads me to reflect on just how significant our action or inaction can be.
Imagine, for a moment, that I did forget my anniversary today. My wife, now irritated and angered, overlooks feeding the cat. Not just that morning but for the entire day, which leads to the cat trundling off to a neighbour's house to get some food. The next day, after hundreds of pounds have been spent on 'forgiveness gifts', we set off in search of our cat. This leads to us coming across an out-of-control dog harassing an old man, whose stick has got stuck in the grating of a drain. Ever helpful, we step in to prise the stick out of the grate, whilst my wife seeks to pacify the dog by stroking it. However, as a cat-lover and someone with no experience of dogs, she makes a fateful mistake by trying to tickle its cheek, which causes it to bite out and almost take her hand between its bloodthirsty teeth. Frightened, she staggers backwards, knocking into the old man, whose stick goes flying out of his hand and through the windscreen of a passing car. The driver, who has borrowed the car from a friend, is left devastated and pulls up around the corner to call the owner, looking for the right words to explain what has happened. The owner is trying to sleep after a party on her street kept her up all night. The phone call jolts her out of bed and she reaches, half-asleep, across the bed-side table for her mobile. Knocking a glass of water over the phone, she screams out in frustration, which is only further compounded by the message her friend leaves on the answer-phone. Taking time to dry out the phone until it is ready to be used again, the owner now misses the call from the estate agent that says she needs to up her latest offer within the next hour or risk losing out on the dream house she'd been saving up for. The estate agent, needing to secure this sale to keep his job after a last warning the previous week, keeps ringing and ringing, wondering just how he'll explain to his wife and baby of 18 months that he won't be able to provide for them anymore. The mother, meanwhile, failed to see her baby walk into the coffee table because an unknown cat had just wondered into the garden. While in hospital, having the baby checked over, she receives a call from her husband telling her that the sale fell through and that his career is finished.
And all because I forgot to buy a card.

As it is my anniversary and it would be a good idea to show a little bit of public affection for my wife, permit me to quote Mr Watson (how about table tennis?) and say that I feel so lucky to have found my wife and I don't want her to die or anything, sentimental fool that I am.