Our History of Valentine’s Day

I have found that people tend to have strong feelings one way or another about Valentine’s Day.   They either love it and walk around the entire week before dressed as a cherub, shooting people with arrows made of sunshine and cookies, or they hate it and instead hole themselves up in their house for a week yelling at Hallmark ads on their television.   There is no in between.   You must pick a side.

Chris and I have an odd history with Valentine’s Day.   Our first V-Day was spent reconciling after a monumental breakup.   We were 17, and no one breaks up like 17-year-olds.   Except maybe soap stars.   High school break ups are colossal.   And ours was a classic high school break up.   It was like a Lifetime Original Movie.   We had stage lighting, for God’s sake.   And that’s not an exaggeration.   It was awesome.   So, this Blessed Event happened sometime in January, I guess, because by February (in true high school/Lifetime fashion) we were starting to get back together again.   And our first date was on Valentine’s Day.   We went to see Hannibal.   Romantic, right?   Nothing like trying to reconcile a good romance while Anthony Hopkins chows down on someone’s brain.

We’ve shared 10 Valentine’s Days since then, and each one of them has been drastically different.   Lets start with gift giving.   I don’t.   There’s nothing to give a boy for Valentine’s Day and I usually just settle on baking cookies (which is actually just cruel; See I Bake, Therefore I Am) and giving a mushy card.   Chris does gift me.   Sometimes.   Like our freshman year of college.   He made me a keepsake box in one of his woodworking classes.   He even engraved my name on it.

And it opens, too.   Notice there are no screws or nails.   All done by handcraftiness.   Ohhhh….Ahhh…..

Fast forward about 4 years to our first Valentine’s Day as a married couple.   I was so darn excited.   I was definitely one of those people running around dressed like a cherub.   Our first Valentine’s Day.   So romantic.

I got a Tupperware organizer.   I’m not kidding.

It spins.   And pulls out when it sits in your pantry.

And Valentine’s Days have pretty gone down hill from there.   Take, for example, our conversation last night.

Me:     Give me chocolates this year.

Chris:   No, too expensive.

Me:   Okay.

Chris:   But I’ll take you to the clearance sales the day after.

Me:   Done.

Clearly, the romance has left our Valentine’s Days.   Well not this year.   This year, I’m digging out my cherub costume and love arrows and I’m celebrating what will be our last Valentine’s Day as a married couple with no kids.   I’m talking flowers and chocolates and the theater.   There will be rose petals on the sidewalks and love in the air.   And I’ll take that box of chocolates now, thankyouverymuch.

Cause next year I’m sure its going to be all macaroni necklaces and Superman cards.   So if this is my last shot at child-free romance, I want the whole schabang.

(NOTE TO CHRIS:   “Schabangs,” by definition, include jewelry.)