'Twas the night before Valentine's
And in many a house
There were two anxious people
With no gift for their spouse
Sounds familiar? To be frank, at Average Towers we're long past the will we/won't we phase of celebrating Valentine's Day.
We've passed through the time-honoured phases of Valentine's Day celebrations that I'm certain most couples who've been together for more than a decade go through:
Pre-marriage: Slaves to commercialism. Lavish gifts all round.
Marriage, pre-kids: Still conforming to commercialism. Overpriced meal out in restaurant. Possible theatre trip.
Early years with children: M&S 'posh' meal deal and a couple of dismal years of misunderstanding as to whether we are exchanging cards or not.
Now: Finally on the same page. I'm 100% certain that I'm not getting anything. Neither is he.
I can almost sense people wringing their hands and shaking their heads as they read this. Surely, I hear you cry, you will be giving one another the gift of some quality time together?
Actually no. In fairness, I have taken the day off work. Only because it is half-term and hubby is working a 12-hour shift.
Here's the thing. It's not that we're completely unromantic (honest). It's just that we don't choose to be romantic because it's expected. Call it a small act of rebellion in my average little life.
To my mind, it's far nicer to be gifted a bunch of flowers by my other half when he knows I've had a really tough day.
And, as we're having a frugal February, it makes sense to save our pennies for a little getaway that we're planning in Spring.
Of course, I don't deny for one minute that receiving flowers, jewellery or chocolates tomorrow will give ladies throughout the land a wonderful and well-deserved boost. It's just that my own valentine and I have an understanding. It doesn't mean we don't care about one another. Somewhere, in among all the petty day-to-day grumbles that pepper family life, I'm pretty sure we still do.
What's more, I've a funny feeling that tomorrow's going to be the day when he finally caves and agrees to paint the kitchen walls in my shade of choice.
Who said romance is dead?