It's Valentines day. Well, almost.

The hubby and I do not exchange gifts for this holiday. We never really have in our years together, maybe 2 days after the fact just to spite the evil of forced consumerism.
Even my kids have to bring red hearted candy to the class "heart" party.  Yup, heart party. So even the non-holiday-religious kids can participate in this mass of purchasing. Sure, I'm negative, but not anti-holiday, more anti-spending of useless crap. Like a monkey with a heart, stuffed toy, that gets shoved in your closet after a week of it being on your dresser.
This might be the acception. Awww. It's cute and offensive all wrapped up into one package.
I don't know what I would do with it... let it get buried under a pile of crap in my room. Isn't that sweet.
Wait a second. I'm a liar. The hubby has given me a couple paintings before on the Valentine day. I don't think I have made anything for him. Is that rude? Eh. He doesn't seem to care. Lucky me.

On a side note. I do have a short but romantic bike story to share. Prepare your "awww's".

About 11 (maybe 12) years ago. My future hubby asked me to dinner at my favorite carb filled restaurant. At the time neither of us were bogged down with a car and living in a the beach community of Ventura, CA. So we didn't really need one for around town. We rolled our ghetto bikes up to the dining location and proceeded to over-fill our guts with pasta and bread.
After hords of food and laughter we attempted to get back on our bikes, which is a task after a huge bowl of noodles and half a loaf of bread. And we rolled out of there and headed to his place, in no hurry.
At the first light we stopped at he started fumbling in his pocket. My first thought, "what the eff is he doing? We're at a light it's going to green and theres a big hill to bomb down." Cars in front and behind us. He pulled out a ring and asked for my hand in marriage.

It looked kind of like this.
In unison please, "aaaawwwww".
Once again, I got him a whole lot of nothing for Valentines Day. Ladies, can we please just recognize that men are too easy to please. Do I really have to say it? Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

Comments

  1. Aww, Thanks Honey. Yep, that's really the way it happened too. I was too chicken to propose in the restaurant! :-)

    ReplyDelete

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