The history of Valentine’s Day – with Mike – is this: It’s all about me, at his request. He doesn’t care for it, but gets into doing all sorts of neat things just for me. Yea! He’d said earlier not to worry about dinner and that we were staying in. What I didn’t tell you is that the man can cook. Yea, Yea!!

He said he’d be home ‘soon’ at 4 today. This was good because 2 of the kids were having simultaneous fits. He walks in AFTER 6 carrying… any guesses? chocolate? No. flowers? No. diamonds? No. Dinner? Sorta.

Cold bags of Chick Fil A. Ahem. I smile and eat graciously because this is the Loving Christian Wife Thing To Do. NOT because I feel like it. I DO NOT. Anyway. I give the kids their Valentine’s stuffed animals and we rush them off to bed. In hindsight, I have no idea why we did that.

We tried and gave up on 2 or 3 movies, bored of Olympic skiing, and played Battleship. Oh yes we really did. Uh. Huh. Mike made brownies (highpoint, by far), and then asks if I’d like to see what’s in the bedroom. Life has started looking up! Yeeeaaaa! Of course, I say, a little flirtatiously. Maybe a little naughtiness in my look. He seems not to notice, but I am not fooled. He’s been known to make be think he’s given me nothing but pots and pans for Christmas (when he knows I hate to cook) just for the pleasure of watching me smile graciously – then hours later giving me gorgeous jewelry. So, there’s something good in the bedroom, and we haven’t even gotten there yet. Woo Hoo!

I must pause a moment, and go off on what may seem to be a tangent. Do any of you remember the 80s show Out of This World? Click here, then please. It was Charles in Charge era – back when Scott Baio was crush-worthy and not scary. The little girl named Evie communicated with her alien father via a light up box thingy.

Oh, what was I saying? Right. The bedroom. This was the sight that greeted me:

If you are unafraid, you can click it and it might enlarge. Nothing says ‘love’ like a 10 pound glass box that lights up red and has a bow. I bet you all wish you’d gotten one tonight, huh? Aren’t you just a wee bit jealous? No, it doesn’t open. It just sits there and… looks… pretty…?

I have no idea what the man was thinking. None. But then he gave me a clue and pointed me to the ‘real gift.’ And suddenly Valentine’s is no longer all about me and that motto is gone, because every gal knows that THESE are not for us. They’re for them. If they were for us, they wouldn’t itch our cracks.

I adore him, odd as he was tonight. So much that I need to go put on something itchy.

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