I don't usually think of losing as something that causes a sense of well being. Does anybody?
But today I'd like to dispense with the usual caustic comments about life to indulge in a fluffy, cuddly moment because--well because it's Valentine's Day.
Every Feb. 14, my husband and I engage in a subtle contest. Oh, neither of us likes to admit it's a contest, but it is. He takes me out to eat one year; I contrive an elaborate meal in the next. I get him a card; he gets a better card. I forget (yes, that's happened); he sends flowers. He always wins, though.
This year, I vowed to be more on my game. I started groceries and weekend errands Friday, and in a bold masterstroke, managed to clean up on little Valentinettes that were marked way down. (Valentinettes--copyright 2009--are the tiny stuffed bears, boxes of six candies and other gimcracks people buy who are too cash-strapped to go to Jared's. BTW, if you use this word, now you have to pay me.) Besides getting Valentines for my husband and daughter, I managed to keep the car out of reach for any shopping he might do. I know this isn't really fair, but you know, a contest is a contest.
So when I returned from other errands today, I was fairly sure I did the best V-day this year. After all, we'd discussed the going-out-to-eat idea and decided we didn't have any budget for it this pay period.
Not so fast. On the piano, was a large folded piece of white construction paper with red hearts. Inside, a little poem made from small letters cut from magazines--ransom note style.
"You kidnapped my heart
So I ransomed my soul
I love you more than
You'll ever know."
And here I spent my Valentine efforts picking up cheap sentiment from the store. What a loser!
So I lose once again. But I don't really mind. Because you know what? I loves ya, honey! Yeah Mike, I'm looking at you.
You won and there's nothing I can do about it.
Unless...does this post count?
Happy Valentine's Day.
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