FAMILY MATTERS
Massage replaces Miracle Gro for her birthday
By Ka'ohua Lucas
February is like most any other month in our family. While my birthday falls in February, there is little fanfare.
So it was no surprise to me when, on the morning of Feb. 11, my husband asked, "What do you have planned for your birthday today?"
"Oh, the usual. Work," I said.
"After you pick up the kids, I'll meet you for dinner at our favorite place, OK?"
"Yeah, sure," I said, scurrying about as I washed the breakfast dishes.
I had already decided a week ago that I would knock off work early and treat myself to a lomi-lomi massage. My 21-year-old daughter and my mother in cahoots had bought me a gift certificate to Aveda. I was really looking forward to a little indulgence.
With broom in hand, I began sweeping our wooden floors.
I recall last year's birthday celebration. My husband and boys really went out on a limb.
They invested in a box of Miracle Gro, complete with hand pump still in its original packaging — a Longs Drug plastic bag. My all-time favorite gift that birthday was the hairbrush with the $1.99 pricing label affixed to the cellophane wrap.
As I made my way to the washer with an armful of clothes, I thought to myself, "Hey, why should this birthday be any different?"
That evening, our family met to celebrate.
I was in a mellow mood.
The lomi-lomi massage had completely eliminated my body aches and replaced it with a warm glow.
As we huddled around the restaurant's wooden dining table, the onshore wind kicked up a notch.
"Here you go, Babe," my husband said, handing me a pair of Quicksilver rubber slippers. "Happy birthday."
"Wow!" I said, attempting to sound excited. "Just what I always wanted!"
"Only the best for you, Babe."
He also pointed out that the soles of the slippers were reinforced with an extra set of rubber plugs to minimize accidental breakage.
The next gift was a green T-shirt in a nondescript plastic bag.
"I'm tired of you stealing mine," he said. "So I bought you your own."
"How thoughtful," I said.
The last item my 9-year-old presented me with was a pair of dark sunglasses — made in China.
"Those are a great pair of fishing glasses," my husband explained enthusiastically. "You can use 'em at the fishpond!"
"Wonderful!" I remarked.
Finally, dinner was served.
The 'opakapaka or blue snapper was cooked to buttery perfection and displayed exquisitely on a bed of mustard cabbage. I had barely finished my meal when my husband offered yet another gift.
In an Aveda cream-colored sack, a corrugated earthy wrapping was tied with a red, cloth ribbon.
I unfolded the contents, unveiling a gift certificate for a lomi-lomi massage.
As I stared in disbelief, I couldn't contain myself.
"Honey, this is so unlike you," I said. "After 15 years, why the reformation?"
"I'm tired of you writing in your column about all the crap I give you on your birthday," he said. "It's about time you wrote about something nice I did for you."
Reach Ka'ohua Lucas at Family Matters, 'Ohana section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; or fax 525-8055.
