Hey, all you men out there, I’ve got a gift for your wife. Come close, closer, closer. Can you hear me?
IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY TOMORROW!!!!
Like most married women I know, I’m all set. I’ve got my card, my chocolates, my lingerie all picked out. We wives know what our men want. But first, they have to remember.
When it comes to Valentine’s Day, do all husbands have a mental block?
Apparently today, I need to scream. Is it possible that the male heart rate goes so haywire at the thought of having to plan – card, flowers, gift, dinner, chocolates, AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH – that February 14 simply vanishes from his calendar?
Tomorrow is the day my husband and I, and every other couple, are legally forced to appreciate each other. I have known this day was coming since it was last here. Let’s do the math. I have had 364 days to select the card that brings a tear to those brown eyes, find the gift that makes him nod, buy lacy stuff he’ll want to peel off, and reserve seats in a restaurant we actually like so we can clink glasses across a teen-less, text-less table, and kiss without the tween saying “Ahem, can you please not do that when I’m here?”
One year way back, after the honeymoon was over and we had settled into married life, I didn’t know it was my job to remind the man. We were off on a beach somewhere and the day before the big day, he apologized – not once, but three times – about not buying me a Valentine’s Day gift. Which meant he was protesting way too much. Which meant he was doing a pathetic job of throwing me off. Which meant I was in for some fabulously small box with fabulously gold wrapping.
“Oh, that’s OK,” I twinkled, waving away the idea. “Valentine’s Day. Bah.”
I must have sounded like the coolest wife in the world, and I thought I was. After all, we didn’t really need material doodads to prove our love. We had romance, respect. We were solid. That is, until I discovered the next morning that he hadn’t even bothered to pick up a sappy card at the local convenience store and I burst into jagged sobs that lasted into the night.
We learned a big married lesson that year: that women (or least, this one) need some physical sign of recognition on this mandated day of Love and that men (at least mine) need to be reminded of that fact each and every year.
Now we both know that a card is the absolute minimum requirement. Dinner is good, gifts are optional, a little action seals the deal. But don’t do nothing, Mister. No matter what.
I’m no dummy, though. I didn’t wait until today to remind him. I got him all set by dropping a hint a couple of weeks back, as in “Wow, it’s FEBRUARY already. VALENTINE’S DAY IS COMING.” Then, again last week: “Holy cow! The first week of FEBRUARY is over. WHAT SHOULD WE DO ON VALENTINE’S DAY?”
And finally, this morning: “So, TOMORROW is VALENTINE’S DAY!”
“What??” he asked, as if this news couldn’t possibly be true. “IT IS??”
“Yeah, it is,” I assured him.
He sighed a big male sigh. “I’m so unromantic,” he confessed.
“Yeah, but you love me.” Bottom line, right?
“I do love you,” he said.
I’ll let you know how this one plays out.
WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR VALENTINE’S DAY?