I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. Yes, I know that it has Catholic roots, but that is simply not enough to garner my interest. St Valentine was no lovey-dovey guy, so I see no reason for all the hubbub. Bah Humbug.
The way I see it, Valentine’s Day is nothing more then a marketing ploy perpetuated by Hallmark and the like. Love should be able to be capitalized on, and these guys have done it like pros. They take the genuine affections you are supposed to have for the one you love, and turn that into an obligation to buy chocolates in little heart shaped boxes that are twice as expensive as the chocolates inside.
The florists are just eating this up. This entire industry must hinge on the sad, duty filled men drudging in to fork out their hard earned cash on obligatory pansies that will wilt and be tossed in with old banana peels is a couple days time. It’s like I’m being put through the meat grinder every year.
This is ludicrous.
It gets sillier. Now we expect our kids to bring little treats to all their classmates full of enough candy to make their poor teachers go out of their minds as the sugar high reaches full tilt. “Be My Valentine!” these little treats say. Yea right, like we should be encouraging love interest in third graders. What nonsense.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a super romantic guy. I am totally in love with my wife, in a way over the top, skip my fishing trip kind of way. I mean I will do anything for her, just to make her smile. She wants wine at 11:30 at night? Then I guess it’s time to put on my shoes. She want’s to paint the kid’s room? No, she want’s me to paint the kid’s room, so off to the hardware store I go.
These are the proper valentines for a man to give. Inconvenience and the sweat from his brow. It is the cleaning of the bathroom after your daughter has been sick in there, or the cleaning out the fridge when that stuff in the back is just too smelly for a lady too touch. This is the gift of a man who is in love, not a bunch of wilting flowers and enough chocolates to grow her behind an extra inch in diameter. (But no honey, your behind still looks great in those pants, I promise.)
You get where I am going with this right?
If you have been brought flowers by your loving husband, know that he remembered Valentines Day. A kind coworker probably reminded him, and so he plopped down the twenty bucks to make sure he didn’t get into trouble.
But if by some chance that same man also drives ;the kids to practice because you have a headache, even though it’s at 7:00 in the morning on a Sat, then you know that he loves you, and them. If he gets up at the crack of dawn to fight all the wild beasts and bring you home the paycheck that pays your mortgage, know that he is committed to you. Who the heck decided that love was to be purchased?
Flowers and chocolate may be thoughtful, but self sacrifice is love. That kind of man deserves a twenty second kiss minimum every day to let him know you feel the same way.
Sigh, yes, I bought chocolate. The 60% cocoa Ghiradelli is her favorite, so I doubled the standard portion, and yes, there is dinner planned tonight. That kiss better be incoming.