Valentine’s Day Is Just Another Lame Attempt To Make Me Grow Feelings
Do you remember Valentine’s Day when you were little?
Everyone made their valentine cards at home and then there was usually some sort of party in the classroom at school and everyone handed them out. I remember getting so excited to see who would leave me a card.
Of course, I grew up in the eighties, and not in the land of everybody gets one, so I noticed that the pile of valentines on my desk was smaller than a lot of the other kids in the room
Then high school came along. The student council would set up a rose sale, where people could buy roses and then it wold be delivered to your home room. I think I got one once in four years from a boy who was gay.
And now as an adult, I couldn’t give any less shits about Valentine’s Day or any other man made holiday for that matter. When me and Husband were without children we’d go out for dinner and spend all the dollars and whatever.
Last night we stayed in and cooked giant Flinstone steaks and ate a loaf of ciabatta bread with brie cheese.
And Bitches, it was coconut brie. Have you ever had that in your mouth? Because you should. It’s the best thing that has happened to my mouth in a very ling time.
I was so busy making love to that brick of cheese that there was not a chance in hell any hanky panky was happening anytime soon. Which was unfortunate because I even shaved my legs. Considering it’s February and I have about 7 layers of clothing on at all times, that is big deal. That’s effort, Bitches. But I was SO FULL after dinner that I almost couldn’t even fit another glass of wine. And I always have room for another glass of wine.
Maybe it’s just the trauma of all the rejection in my childhood and teenage years, but I just think made up holidays are stupid. They are nothing but a way to boost sales and make people go out and spend money that they probably don’t have to spend.
Maybe its all the years I’ve spent in the service industry, watching some new couple awkwardly try to keep conversation flowing on a date they never would have went on if it weren’t for St. Valentine. Watching a girl nervously hesitate when the bill comes, not sure if she should expect him to pay or not. *Always make him pay, honey. You bought a new dress for this shit.*
Maybe I am just trying to keep my heart of ice cool enough so that I don’t accidentally grow any more feelings.
We were happy to hang out and watch the Walking Dead ( which was fucking stupid awesome last night, by the way) and eat of the beef in our pajamas and die of fullness. That’s romance post babies.
What did you do? What’s your idea of romance?