I’m not what you would describe as Masculine, per say, but I’m also not very girly. Especially when it comes to anniversaries, my birthday, or the supposedly most romantic day of the year–Valentine’s Day. That’s why I dread the inevitable questions that come from girlfriends this time of year: “What are you doing this year? What is he getting you? Where is he taking you?” It’s not like I refuse to celebrate it, or anything. I just don’t need a box of chocolate, flowers, or an overpriced dinner on February 14th to know that my husband adores me with every fiber of his being. (You may be shocked by my bold assumption, but I have 18 years of reality to convince me this is true.)
You may rightly assert that there are many other things we could exchange on Valentine’s Day in order to celebrate our extreme fondness for one another’s company. True, a really easy gift, and one that would certainly impress me, would be a bottle of Woodford Reserve, but I have this annoying habit of giving up bourbon for Lent each year, and the calendar has an annoying habit of placing Ash Wednesday directly after Valentine’s Day, so that’s out. (Good idea for my birthday, though. hint hint) Factor in that we’ve never had a lot of money, and I tend to see the entire process, especially when it involves $50 flowers and $100 fondue, as a waste of hard earned income. What I’d really like, unromantic as it sounds, is a new vacuum cleaner. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving!
We do celebrate our love; we just don’t do it the traditional way. Just last week John came home from the grocery with manager’s special tulips (they looked fine and tulips are my favorite) and a cadbury caramel egg. No amount of splurging on Valentine’s Day can top the impromptu surprise, especially when it involves a cadbury egg. And for our anniversary last year–okay multiple years–we both agreed that all we really wanted to do was grab some BBQ, drink a few beers, and then take a long walk in our favorite neighborhood, the way we could before we had strollers and bicycles slowing us down.
John knows, from years of experience, that if he shows up with a lot of girly frou-frou this Sunday I will not be impressed. He only needs to show up with his heart, like he does every other day of the year, to make me happy.
Still, if he showed up with a brand new vacuum cleaner, I wouldn’t turn it down.