What's wrong with these roses?

Ladies, a man sends you a dozen roses by way of introduction -- and in hopes of getting you to agree to a date. You:

A. Rejoice. Romance is alive and well! You call to thank him for the gift, you chat a little bit and you schedule that date. He just might be a keeper.

B. Read the note, which goes a little something like this -- "Having enjoyed meeting you, please accept these roses as an invitation to dinner" -- and you think, "Weird. Why didn't he just ask me when he saw me?" Your answer to his invitation: thanks for the flowers, but no thanks to the invite. Let's be friends.

C. Don't respond. What in the world is this guy doing sending me flowers, and, if he's so interested, why do I have to call him to set up a date? Stalker alert: Let the red flags wave.

For one Relate reader, the answer has been a version of C, every time. Seems he keeps sending a dozen roses to women he has met casually, but they never acknowledge their receipt, let alone the dinner invitation -- even if he sees them again.

By way of background, this reader was married for 12 years and says he took a few years off from dating before re-entering the scene. Then he started sending the roses. To four women, to be exact.

Not one date resulted. He says not one woman told him she had received the flowers.

He's frustrated. He says of the women he's encountered on the dating scene: "They claim to want a man who is stable, comfortable, who can provide the security that is needed in a relationship, but yet you watch the type/style these women date and it makes you wonder which side of the mind are they thinking with. For me, I look at the woman's inner beauty, who she is inside, what makes her tick."

So, readers, what should he do?

What you can buy at a 'slumber' party

Before my friend and her husband decided to get serious about starting a family, she held a little "slumber party" at her house.

Slumber party, of course, being a euphemism for the Tupperware-Party-like extravaganza at which women could sip some wine and buy, umm, adult toys for intimate purposes.

But the more interesting party -- really -- was on the other side of town, where the men attached to the partygoers held an anti-event. They grilled pounds of red meat, drank a few beers ... and fretted about what the women would bring home after the slumber party.

In fact, there was a list of things the men did not want to see (but we don't need to go into here), and many beers were drunk as they worried about the expectations their women might have.

Which amused the women. If the men didn't want to receive gifts from WAY out in left field, they had little to worry about. One of the attendees badgered most of the partygoers into sharing their purchases with the group. Some lingerie, some massage oils, but nothing too racy. (Not all of the women shared the contents of their brown paper bags, though ...)

But the guys' concern also left us women at a bit of a loss. Isn't a gift bag from a "slumber party" a dream come true?

Love being a family, but ...

Friday night is date night for me and my husband.

We decided a few months ago, when my work schedule changed and we needed our babysitter less often during the week, that we'd hire her to give us a regular break from "family" and a chance to once again be just "couple."

It has been amazing.

We escape only for about two hours every week (by Friday night, we're both too tired for major partying), but we've taken the opportunity to try new restaurants. Ones that generally do not serve chicken fingers and fries.

We've also visited our favorite restaurant (we're both Vietnamese cuisine freaks) often enough that the servers recognize us and, most times, can guess our drink order -- something that was status quo before children.

We spend most of our time (on a good night, all of our time), talking about something other than children. A wish list of vacation destinations. Career goals (and, in today's environment, worries). The books/magazines we're reading.

After all, it's one night a week to reacquaint each other with the individual adults that are part of our family.

It's a chance to remember why we got married, and why we stay married.

Worth a few hours of babysitting fees a week, don't you think?

Is this the season of love?

Alisha: Today's forecast is projected to reach a high of 80 degrees. Thank goodness the warm weather is here, and with that, so is the perfect environment for love. Dontcha think?
Deirdre: Of course! I think there's something to that phrase, "spring fever." I know I've been feeling almost giddy lately. And have you looked around? People can't wait to get naked! Well, to at least wear fewer clothes.
Alisha: That's true ... I had almost forgotten what halter tops looked like till I saw five women wearing them as they walked down East Boulevard Thursday afternoon. Here's how I'd break down the seasons: Spring is a good time to start looking for a date, summer is when the hook-ups happen, fall is for either making the relationship last or ending it, and winter -- it's all about drinking something warm and snuggling up to someone.
Deirdre: Girl, I'm for looking and hooking and cuddling all year 'round! But spring is a special time. I think the longer and brighter days play a big part. We all just want to be ... out more. We've roused from hibernation, just like other animals. My cousin, who lived in Alaska for years, said that once spring arrived, everyone was walking around staring at everyone else, because they'd all been bundled up through winter and weren't used to seeing so much skin.
Alisha: I like the hibernation comparison -- it reminds me I need to shave my legs more often. Ha!
Deirdre: And get a pedicure! I started to put on sandals today, then noticed the sad state of my feet. Even my cat was like, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." If you're gonna start showing more skin, that skin better be worth showing!
Alisha: Readers, do you think all the warm rays and the lack of clothing gets you in the mood to seek out love, or would you rather find your potential mate in the dead of winter inbetween cuddling sessions?