The Wind Out Of My Sails

I guess I need to just shut my mouth.

Or, more accurately, shut off that little switch in my brain labeled "Bitch Mode."

Because yesterday, in full Bitch Mode, I arrived home to this:

(Points for them not being roses!)

Oh, and here's the card:

So, like, does this cancel out future actions?

Or did he just anticipate that I was going to throw a fit regarding the dishes in the living room, the mail scattered throughout the house, and the bread crumbs left on the counter?

Either way, it is a sure-fire way to turn my switch off.

I don't think, however, that there are enough flowers in the world to totally rid me of this trait, but I'm sure not going to discourage him from trying.