My husband never buys me flowers for Valentines Day, because “it’s too expected.” So what then, you might ask, do I get for Valentines?
When I look back at our 13 or 15 Valentine Days together (1994-1995 were on-again, off-again years) very little in the way of gifts that wow come to mind: dinners out at tables for two so jammed together, we were rubbing elbows with the couples beside us; being serenaded by cheesy troubadours schlepping songs and “roses for the lady”; flowers sometimes, and more rarely roses. Oh, I did get that black corset from Agent Provocateur one year. And we did get engaged twelve Februaries ago. Definitely some wow years, and some that were just…whatever.
The only expectation through the Valentines in my house is really good sex, even on a tummy full of pasta and red wine. But if it’s expected, can you still call it a gift?
Only if it starts with a full body massage…