I’ve never been a big fan of romance. If Edward were my boyfriend, I would… I would…. I don’t know what I would do, but the world would soon have one less sappy vampire on it’s hands. Kissy kissy lovey dovey stuff really gets on my nerves. And don’t even get me started on jewelry commercials.
Unfortunately, I married a girl. Okay, he’s not really a girl, but if you have read “Men Are From Mars, Yada Yada” you would know that in this relationship, I am the man and he is the woman. And Venus is not a planet anyone should live on.
Back to my story…Because Todd actually likes mushy stuff, many years ago I decided to go against my inner nature and create a very special Valentine event for him. Not just for one day, but for twelve days, to be exact – The Twelve Days of Valentine’s. Each day I made something cutesy with some sort of mushy saying on it to give to him. What the gifts and sayings were, I don’t remember. It’s probably post traumatic stress syndrome. But anyway, it was very romantic. And I did this every day. For twelve days. I fought against my inner nature and produced lovey dovey mushy stuff for twelve days. I poured hours of thought and hard work into the gifts. It was rough.
Now, I don’t require much by the way of gifts. I’m very low maintenance that way. BUT, given that I had just spent twelve days of my life trying to be a romantic wife, I thought that at least Todd might get something for me. Just once. Some nice flowers maybe.
Nope. Nada. He gave me nothing.
But…the next year, he did get me something. Something terrible. The stuff nightmares are made out of.
It was a coffee mug (I don’t drink coffee) that looked as if it had been melted (totally deformed), filled with chocolate (I hate chocolate), which read “I Love You In Spite of All Your Imperfekshuns.”
We don’t speak to each other on Valentine’s Day anymore.