“So how was your Valentine’s Day?” my sweet friend Meghan asked me this week.
I had to laugh. Sort of. And then I told her the truth.
Truth which actually started last Wednesday—the Wednesday before Valentine’s Day—when B called me from work. “So, do you want to go out for dinner this weekend?”
My mind was thinking, Are you crazy? This is Valentine’s weekend. We’ll never get a reservation.” But instead my mouth said, “Are you crazy? This is Valentine’s weekend. We’ll never get a reservation.”
And then nothing happened until Friday when B called me from work again and said, “So, how do you feel about eating a little early tomorrow night?”
“What? Like as in 4:30 when the old people eat?” I said.
“Nah, not that early. How about 4:45?” That B. He’s such a kidder.
And me? I’m too honest for my own good.
“No,” I said. “Basically, no. We’ll be done with dinner by 6 and then we’ll have to go back home to the kids and that won’t be fun at all. Nope. Not gonna do it.”
So we talked about it a little more and decided that we’d go out the next weekend. When all the Valentine’s Day losers go out to eat.
So then Valentine’s Day came, and, frankly, I was pretty excited because you know what happened last Sunday.
When our neighbor, Nancy Swider-Peltz, Jr. was skating in the 3000m women’s speed skating competition. And I really wanted to see it.
But there was this little matter of a meeting I had at church that afternoon. And then another matter of Nancy’s skate being postponed by a couple of hours. And the DVR recording that didn’t happen. And then another matter of a hockey game that was on when I got home. Well, and if I’m to be completely honest here, which I most certainly am, there might have been a little bit of a hormonal matter going on too.
And before I knew it the Blackhawks were in a shootout and Nancy skated and our DVR had not recorded it and I missed the whole thing. And I was kind of . . . oh . . . mad.
But I held it in. For a little while. Until B asked me what was the matter and, silly me, I had to be completely honest and blame hockey, whose fault it certainly was, which made him mad and so we were both mad for different reasons, both, I think, hormonal.
Children huddled in the basement. Dogs whined. Voices were raised. It was an ugly, ugly scene.
All over . . . what? I can’t even remember.
The next day we
So, yes, we’ve been married for almost 25 years (June 1 is the big day—you can start your planning now), and we still fight every now and then. Over some really important things.
And Valentine’s Day.
So, how was YOUR Valentine's Day?