Valentines Day and me were pretty big enemies for a very long time. By my interpretation, the day served to do nothing more than make idiots out of teenage boys and girls and remind me (a non-idiot...clearly) that nobody liked me, nobody loved me, and I might as well go eat some worms. Into adulthood I didn't learn to love the day any more. Again it served to enhance lonliness, or, even worse, became a weird day full of pressure to make it "just right" without having any idea what "just right" really was. There was card-choosing ( do I get funny, sweet, mushy?), meal planning (steak? Chocolate Cake?) etc, etc, etc. Then there was the year we decided to try going out for dinner...which at the time was a very rare treat. (Well, that is unless dinner was handed through a window in a paper sack...we did that all the time.) Four hours later we ate overcooked and oversalted food sharing a table with my husband's boss who took pity on us when he realized how long we'd been waiting and offered to share the table-top.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
The next year was the best Valentines day ever though. And it was the best because we'd given up on expectations. We'd shown Hallmark the finger and just went on with life doing what we do best. But, the day didn't go uncelebrated...it was just celebrated differently. No pressure. That year, at 11:00pm JP walked in after his shift carrying a snickers bar, a diet coke and a hilarious/cheesy talking doll named "Mr. Perfect" that he had picked up at the gas station. Mr. Perfect says things like "Here Honey, why don't you hold the remote control" and "The game's not that important, why don't we snuggle" and "I'd love it if your mother stayed two more weeks". The doll is ugly and noisy and makes me laugh everytime I see it. That was one of those nights when I knew we had things pretty well figured out. We knew each other well enough to know that the whole "romantic evening" just wasn't our style, and that the best indicator of our love for each other was our ability to relax and to laugh at gas station valentines.
*I wonder if this will be the year I finally get one of those awesome roses they sell at the gas station that's really made out of panties?-----------------KIDDING!!!!!
Posted by Goob at 6:24 AM