Valentine’s Day needs to be redefined. First of all, it requires some emotional input with which I’ve never been really comfortable. My husband knows that when I punch him in the arm and pinch his ear lobe, it means I love him unconditionally. Who needs to give a card when you provide that kind of demonstrative love?
It also requires an evening out where every woman walks into O’Charleys hauling kids, looking exhausted, while the husband has this pinched expression like his shoes are too tight. Everybody sits and waits for an hour while the kids scream and the woman glares at her hubby who is answering e-mails on his blackberry.
Or it requires the couples-only approach, where you are supposed to eat some place fancy. You know that this is the only meal you’ll eat all month that that doesn’t have “Jenny Craig” stamped on it, and yet when it is finally served, it consists of a half-dollar sized steak with six crunchy green beans, topped off with some flan-like dessert that dissolves before it reaches your tongue.
Finally, you have those awkward cards that say things so sappy you’re not sure if they’re supposed to be in the humor section or not. Things like:
You are the moonbeam in my night,
The sunshine in my day,
My cul-de-sac’s street light,
My once-a-week lay.
Well, not exactly like that, but you get my point.
Accompanying the card is some God-awful gift you’d rather not have, like a piece of lingerie which is totally a gift for the husband, or for us over-50 Dames just a cruel costume that makes us hate ourselves. A box of chocolates is a waste since 90% of the flavors will be inedible and you’ll end up taking one bite and gracefully spitting the rest out.
Let’s face it, even Cupid is creepy looking and holds a weapon. So, I think I’ll just be grateful for my husband this year but ask him if I can have the ultimate Valentine’s gift that would include the following:
- Take-out Chinese eaten while watching “House Hunters”
- Sweats and fuzzy slippers instead of lingerie
- Orange Milano cookies in place of chocolates
- A good book instead of a card and a soft couch to read it on
- A nice foot massage that leads to absolutely nothing else
Now, that’s what I call Valentine’s Day.