I've never been a big fan of Valentine's Day. When I was in grade school, I'd get anxious about the day because omg I did NOT want to give any of my boy classmates a card that had anything to do with me crushing on them or any other sweet words whatsoever. I mean, ew, in 1st grade, boys totally had cooties.
Now, I just tend to treat it as any other day. I've even gotten to the point of just cooking at home instead of fighting the madhouse that is restaurants on the 14th of February. It's just not worth it.
This was the boy's and my first Valentine's Day, though. I made my feelings on the matter very clear. I don't want you to do much, I feel more special if you pick up flowers on a random day when I'm not expecting it. Better yet, I'd feel super special if you gave me a day at the spa round about April (kidding).
But of course he didn't listen.
I came back from lunch on Monday to find a huge bouquet of flowers on my desk. Nobody's ever done that for me. The card was simple. Happy Valentine's. I love you, D. But alas, I still wasn't sold on the whole celebration day.
After work, I came home, went for a walk and started supper. Pork chops, roasted asparagus, sauteed mushrooms, twice baked potatoes and chocolate covered strawberries. I ain't gonna be shown up, y'all. I made a quick scrapbooked card, jumped in the shower and put on a sundress, because gawsh, I know he's tired of seeing me in sweats with wet hair and no makeup. I got kind of excited, because it was out of the norm. It wasn't the every other night TV watching, quick eating, laundry folding, talking about our day kind of night. Something about it was special.
The boy arrived, card in hand, in which I found the new Zac Brown Band CD and a gift certificate to get my nails done. It was simple, as the entire day had been. And exactly what I wanted without knowing that I wanted it.
And the best part of all, turns out, is that he did listen to me. He didn't go to extravagant measures to make this one day of the year sooo amazingly great. But he did go out of his way to make it known that he loves me. And to show me that love by cleaning up the kitchen (so. many. dishes. wow.) and rubbing my feet and legs. He took the opportunity to once again tell me that, hey girl, you da bomb.
I wasn't expecting anything, per se, but the fact that he met me in the middle of my "I hate this day" and his "Please shhhhhhut it and enjoy my doting on you" outlooks, made it the best of all.
Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad. But maybe the other days that the guys we love take the trash out without being asked, and lend a listening ear when we're whiny, and give up a Sunday of football watching to go on a picnic mean just as much, if not more. I'm glad I was blessed with this day to realize that. :)
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