Gorgeous VD fifth grade party cupcakes done by my talented neighbor who owns a BoBo cupcakery known as Cupprimo’s.*
I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I hate baking and refuse to celebrate Valentine’s Day. My husband and I tend to rebel against certain societal norms, finding them off-putting and forced rather than honestly enjoyable.
I don’t want tokens of love he feels required to give and he doesn’t care to be told that he must fall in line or feel like a thoughtless jerk.
This whole national day of love just doesn’t work for who we are as individuals or a couple.
Do you want to know what really moves me?
When he walks in the door with flowers for no particular reason, surprises me with Chinese take-out for lunch during the week when the boys are at school, starts a fire and brews coffee before I wake up on cold Sunday mornings, offers up a bevy of racy compliments when I wear something pretty, while scolding me for not spending enough on myself.
Not to mention the daily business of living we all take for granted. Like providing a good living for our family, coaching sports teams, leading Boy Scouts, re-wiring the kitchen and laying our wood floors. Helping with math homework every night, volunteering for story time at the elementary school, holding a sick puppy as she took her last breaths when I couldn’t bear another minute of her suffering.
Fussing at me when I get squirrelly rather than caving in to my tear streaked waves of futile depression and forever having my back in this good life we’ve built together.
I’ll gladly take these infinitely more meaningful sweet chunks of his heartfelt affection over a commercialized glut of guilt induced chocolates, common red roses and tacky Zales jewelry one small slice out of the year.
Nice post, real and good to read. Have a great day even if it is a holiday!
Truly. If it’s love it’s every day in lots of ways.
(you’ve been missed)
Tonight my husband asked if I feel left out when he doesn’t do Valentine’s Day. I said, no, we’ve been married nearly thirty years, and I know he loves me and he knows I love him.
Well, earlier, Irksome Middle Child called and asked him if he was taking me out. (Who goes out to dinner when everyone else does exactly that? In PA, going out in February to stand outside an hour waiting for a table isn’t my idea of romantic)
So he grilled steaks, and we ate in. No flowers, no jewelry, just ourselves and good eats and conversation. Life is sweet, lady. Life is sweet.
Well put, and well understood.
I forgot to say what Irksome Middle wanted. She scolded her father for not taking me out and asked if we’d fought, and that if we had, we should make up right away and not be angry.
This girl surprises me more and more every day.
The wife likes Godiva chocolate, and each Valentines Day she gets a two pound box. This makes her happy. I like to make her happy.
…infinitely more meaningful sweet chunks of his heartfelt affection…
That’s nice right there, Daphne.
I like the nod to romance the day can bring but not the weighty bullshit thrust upon it. Rather, I sent him to GTs. Wilson Combat magazines – yes, yes – much better than roses. And Speer Gold Dot bullets that you could swim in…
I like your thrust at it – the daily confirmation that my shit shall be taken means much more…because I can be full of it, now and then…
Great post Daphne. Me and mine have lived 40 years this way and we’re very happy. Our special day always takes both by surprise because we never see it coming. Cheers!
Hugs, Ron.