It's almost Valentine's Day and I just know David will get me something 'useful' if he gets me anything at all. Let's face it, David has never been good at gift-giving, or holidays, or being romantic or...Will someone please remind me again why we've been married almost 48 years?
I am the opposite. I am a hopeless romantic who will spend hours or days trying to pick out the perfect gift for our family on any given holiday. David signs his name on the card. That's not exactly true. I sign his name but try to make it not look like mine. To this day none of our family or friends knows what his real signature looks like.
This is an open letter to my one and only who lacks the gift-giving gene.
Dear David,
I know that you hate this time of year. Well, hate might be the wrong word. How about strongly dislikes? Dreads? Someone who would rather sit through Mamma Mia! for the fifth or sixth (okay, seventh) time instead of competing with the throngs of husbands, boyfriends or suitors who also waited until Feb. 13 to find something that'll keep you and your fellow procrastinators out of the doghouse.
So this year, let's spare you the agony of trying to find the perfect gift and me having to pretend that I really, really wanted another blender. The fact that we have two stashed away because you don't remember buying them means nothing.
I don't need anything for you to let me know you love me. I know you do. You prove it every day by the little things you do. Don't think I didn't notice the day you helped me out when I was sick by doing the laundry. I like my new red blouse that is now a subtle shade of pink. Surely my jeans are too small because I've been checking out the refrigerator for nearly expired snacks. It can't be because you washed them in hot water and left them in the dryer for an hour.
I mean it. I don't need anything. But if you happen to decide to check out the new jewelry store in town there's a pair of diamond earrings with my name on them. After all, we must support out local shop owners in these trying times, mustn't we?
I really don't need a heartshaped box of chocolates. Especially the one that contains nothing but 'turtle' candies. I wonder why they're called 'turtles'? No, no. Don't buy me chocolates. I must watch my girlish figure so I can fit into my newly-sized jeans. Okay, maybe one or two pieces wouldn't hurt.
Just the thought of fighting the crowds at a restaurant gives me pause. Even if I wanted to go out like thousands of other couples, it would be impossible to get a reservation now, wouldn't it? And the noise. The thought of that many people filling every table and whispering (more like shouting to be heard over the din) sweet nothings in the name of Valentine's Day would be too much. I'm fine with frozen pizza since I know you don't like to cook. I'm not fussy. I'm just happy to be here at home, all snuggly and warm by the fire. By the way, I saw a Facebook posting of a cute little restaurant tucked away in the mountains just a few miles from here that just opened up. Maybe we could call and get a table since it's new?
No? Let's just stay home, pop a movie into the old DVD player, light the fireplace, nibble on cheese and sip wine. I don't need to be swept off my feet like some newlywed. No, who would want to be out on a cold night like this when we can stay home, pop a movie into the old DVD player, light the fireplace, nibble on cheese and sip wine. I suggest Mamma Mia! No? You say if you have to watch that one more time the DVD may come to an early demise? Okay. But if you happen to stumble upon some the of brochures we collected (and I surreptitiously left by your computer) the last time we went anywhere I've circled a few of the more interesting places we could visit.
I definitely don't want flowers. Roses in particular. They'll just die in a few days and they're way too expensive this time of year. No, they're just a waste of money although I heard a baby aspirin will keep them alive for a few more days. Did I tell you I like red ones?
So, my dear husband, it doesn't matter what we do on this one day of the year as long as we're together.
Happy Valentine's Day, Debi.