After a few years of hinting, I finally just bluntly told my husband, “Do not get me flowers for Valentines Day.” I just can’t pretend to love them anymore when all I really think is, these are so cliché, so ubiquitous as to be meaningless on this particular day. I hate to sound bitchy, truly. I would just adore surprise flowers any other day of the year and any type–even picked from the curbside. My Dad bought my sister and I flowers every single valentines day growing up and it is such a lovely tradition, that my husband does for our daughter too and so much fun! It is wonderful for mothers,grandmothers,teachers,aunts, …..see where I am going with this?
Even though we had a lengthy conversation about how it is appreciated, but just depressed me to look at them, I think he only heard–wompah,womp,pom,pom (the voice Charlie Brown hears when adults talk).
This is evidenced by the fact that he did not get me anything at all last year. He recently materialized out of his den to interrupt the conversation between my 17-year-old son and I, where I was advising him NOT to give his girlfriend flowers on February 14th, to say, ” But your mom does not think like the rest of the world.” Paraphrasing, I know he thinks I am crazy.
Instead of filmy,teeny,tiny skimpy little outfits from Victoria’s Secret, something with fur,flannel or a robe since the ladies are always freezing. Cooking utensils of any type are forbidden. That is a gift for the entire family and the same goes with any cleaning device even if it is a top of the line dison model. Gym memberships being gifted on this day seem a passive/aggressive insult. Anything that you could easily just give to your secretary, like chocolates and roses, is a no-no.
I guess I am clearly not normal, but you already know that.