So Valentine’s Day is upon us yet again! Every year I vow to not subscribe to the commercialised hype when roses quadruple in price and the stores are awash with polyester hearts screaming fire hazard. Hate it. Carrie Bradshaw once asked, are we romance intolerant? Is it everything or nothing?
When it’s the 25th Valentines Day does it matter? Is it just for the young? anonymous cards from secret admirers, with SWALK written on the envelope?
I will go around espousing that romance should not be pigeonholed into a 24 hour period, that it should take place all year round. But I only don’t care about it, up until that is I suspect that hubby has actually forgotten, at which point its catapulted to astronomical importance and I like a deck of cards, the hearts and diamonds will be replaced by a club and a spade if I don’t get a card. To be fair it doesn’t happen often. Am I alone? A lovely valentines quote comes to mind… My love is like a Candle, forget me and I’ll burn your house down.
But this year the stores may be closed, the the florists doors firmly shut to the weary and desperate husbands trying to get their hands on a bedraggled bloom. So what now? Do we need to be creative for once? A cheesy poem? A home cooked meal made with love? Shaving your legs? What are you doing this Valentines Day?
I will wake up pretending it’s all nonsense, but will still be delighted to open a card. And if not, don’t forget behind every angry woman is a man wondering what he did wrong.