I Am the Worst Valentine Ever

I am not in love with Valentine’s Day. I am not lonely. I have someone with whom to celebrate, and he is amazing. My problem is that I am utterly, completely and irrevocably unromantic.

I used to blame it on my husband, but I now see that it is entirely me.

First, I should present the evidence that he is, in fact, romantic:

1. Let me begin with my Valentine chocolate addiction. It has gotten bad enough that, on February 15, I will hit every chain drug store in the county to buy up the deeply discounted candy and store it in the freezer. My kids think this is great, because I am kind of picky about which pieces I eat so the boys get to eat all of the cherry and orange filled ones. Bleck. So this year Porkchop special ordered me my very own heart box full of only my top 3 favorites. This was sweet, thoughtful, and romantic.

2. When we were dating, there was a water crisis, and I am heavy drinker (water that is). The water had a bad case of the funk, and I griped about it one day. Next thing I knew, there was a water filter installed on the kitchen sink. Not glamorous, but sweet. Thoughtful. Dare I say romantic?

3. He supports me in my endeavors. Is there anything more romantic than a man who takes care of you? He brings me lunch every Monday because he worries that I will not take the time to get food on the days I volunteer at our son’s school. And when I freaked out because I was getting a 16^th student (who only spoke Chinese) in the three year old preschool class I teach, he texted me, “They know you are a great teacher! That is why your class is always full.” Sweet, thoughtful, romantic.

4. He dances in public because it makes me happy.

Evidence to my complete lack of romance:

1. All of my pajamas are made of cotton or fleece and are decidedly NOT going to inspire romantic thoughts. (Hubby tried to correct this at Christmas by giving me some new cotton PJs that are solid black—read: not covered in cartoon hearts or Husker logos.) Is this TMI? If so, ignore the next statement: I sleep with four pillows. Yes, FOUR! One under my head, one on each side, and one under my legs. It is like the Fort Knox of sweet dreams. No one is getting close without a massive effort.

2. The only candles in my house are on loan from…….. wait for it…… my MOM! How romantic is that?! Aside: these candles are a simple arrangement of eight pear-shaped candles. Our oldest son asked me if it was a pear menorah. I am not sure whether this observation makes me proud that my son recognizes major religious items or makes me giggle every time I look at the pears. It also makes me sing, “David Lee Roth lights the menorah…” in my head. Thank you Adam Sandler.

3. I have to ask my Facebook friends what to do for Porkchop for Valentine’s Day. So far the result is not good. I have made a few attempts to plan something, but they keep falling through. Besides, are motocross tickets really romantic?

4. I asked my husband to never send me flowers. I said that it was a waste of money to buy something that was useless and going to be dead in a week anyway. This also applies to potted plants, though they sometimes last as long as two or three weeks.

5. I actually gave him a nose- and ear-hair trimmer for Valentine’s Day one year.

So, while some people dread February 14 because they have no one to romance, I dread it because I have someone and no romance.

I guess that I will have to go with my usual: homemade Valentines with the boys, pink heart pancakes and lots of candy at breakfast followed by the craziness of school parties with 3 kids. I just hope that Porkchop knows that, after 11 years, I am still head-over-heels in love with him. Even if he ends up getting a box of Band-Aids or a nose hair trimmer on the most romantic day of the year.