Even though I’m pretty savvy and cynical, and most definitely onto Hallmark’s game, come this time of year my mind always makes a small break with financial reality and I start to wonder:
Will he send me dozens of red roses, or is it to be diamond jewelry this year?
Maybe a romantic dinner out at that restaurant that takes two months to get a reservation—who am I kidding, there is no such restaurant here on the mountain–or shall it be a lovingly prepared surprise picnic of goat cheese and red wine on a red plaid blanket spread out in living room in front of the fire because it’s too damned cold to picnic outside in February?
While I ponder what will satisfy my inner romantic demon, my husband dangles in the wind. I tell him I don’t want anything this year–Lord knows we both have too much on our plate to be fretting about some stupid fabricated Hallmark holiday–but we both know that I’ll probably feel hurt and unloved if he really does nothing to demonstrate his love for me.
The problem with being married in February is that there aren’t any real surprises. It isn’t like my husband of nearly 26 years could truly buy me anything and I not know about it. I see the credit card bill, too. And while I’d love nothing more than a surprise delivery of dozens of blood red roses, the pragmatic side of me doesn’t want to see the bill for them. (Costco is asking $149 for 50 of them. Order by February 11 at 11 a.m. PST for February 12 or 13 delivery. If you want 12 “EXQUISITE” red roses from FTD be prepared to cough up $319.99. $319.99!)
I definitely do not want roses this year. Just seeing the $319.99 price tag has left me aghast. What with all of the starving children in this world who but the very newly in love could justify $320 dollars worth of flowers that’ll be dead in a week?
So what do I want my husband—who once sat by my hospital bed all night on a filthy hospital ER floor when I was really sick from pregnancy because he didn’t want to leave my side—to do this year to prove his undying Hallmarkian love? I haven’t a clue.
Although that picnic in the living room sounds pretty good. Hint. Hint.