Valentine’s Day: Love it or hate it, right?
Eh, I fall somewhere in the middle. Here’s my take on the day:
If you have a special someone in your life, go ahead and celebrate…but don’t get crazy.
Carrying a giant stuffed bear around school all day like Taylor Swift in Valentine’s Day= crazy…even if Taylor Lautner was the giver
If you are single, enjoy the day, eat some chocolate, but please–please–don’t feel like you are worthless because you are unattached. That’s simply not true.
Andrew and I had our first Valentine’s Day together three years ago. As February 14 approached, we discussed plans:
A: What did you have in mind?
C: Oh I don’t know. A candle-lit dinner, bottle of wine, Frank Sinatra…
(Fast forward a week or so, Andrew teased me for being cheesy. For the record, I was doing so on purpose, to be funny.)
A: …Candle-lit dinner, wine, Frank Sinatra, flowers…
C: Hey, I didn’t say anything about flowers.
A: Well, I know, but I just thought it would be nice if you got me some.
How did we end up spending the day? Valentine’s Day was on a Sunday that year, so on Saturday we cooked dinner together, ate it by candlelight in the living room of my small, but awesome apartment, and exchanged gifts. I gave Andrew flowers, per his request, and he gave me nicer flowers. He also gave me a homemade squirrel catching kit, but that’s another story for another day. I have no idea what else I gave him other than a very appropriate card, only to find out later that he hates greeting cards and would rather have the $5. That’s the last card I ever gave him.
We spent a few hours walking through the gardens, climbing trees, and feeding the goats. When we were ready to leave, we were as far as we could possibly be from the car, so we decided to take a shortcut through a snowy field. Not wanting my shoes to get wet, Andrew offered to carry me on his back. Picture perfect, right?
Sure, right up until he slipped in the snow and fell backwards. My head hit the snow, and I was staring up at the sky before I’d even realized what was happening. Soaking wet from head to toe, we both laughed in a belly-aching kind of way. I laughed so hard, in fact, that I let out a fart–a very audible fart. (Thankfully, it was not the first, and it was certainly not the last.) At that point we laughed even harder.
And it was just perfect.
Anyone have any good, bad, funny, or embarrassing Valentine’s Day stories? I’d love to hear them 🙂