« Debauchery. | Main | Surefire tips for a blissful love life »
February 13, 2006
Wuv . . . True Wuv . . .
Where's My Freaking Chocolate?
Attention all Literary Chick husbands: tomorrow is Valentine's Day. That's right: TOMORROW. You have one day to haul ass over to the florist or gourmet chocolate shop (no cheap stuff), or even better, both.
You know what happens when you forget about Valentine's Day, right? If you’ve made that mistake in the past, then you're already heading out the door. If you haven't, I'll give you one hint: it's bad, so bad it will henceforth and forever be known in your house as the Great February Frost.
Even if your wife/girlfriend/whatever says things like, "I don't need a Hallmark holiday to celebrate our love," don't fall for it. She doesn’t really mean it, even if she says, “no, really, I mean it. Don’t get me anything.” It's a sucker move, meant to test you.
I started life off thinking that Valentine's Day was pretty sweet. Every year my dad would buy my sister and me each one of those little heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. And it was always a fun holiday at school, a day full of red lollipops and conversation hearts and other sorts of refined sugar.
But once I got into Middle School, all of that changed. Starting in fifth grade, Valentine's Day became all about the carnations.
Some sadistic student group would hold a yearly fundraiser in the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day. For a dollar a pop, you could send your friends -- or whoever you were crushing on -- a carnation with a little love note attached. And then on the morning of February 14th, the carnations would be distributed, and the girls who got carnations would carry them around all day to show them off.
Sounds like innocent fun, right? Not.
Because it all came down to a popularity contest. The cuter and more popular you were, the more carnations you got. And, by extension, it was the day you found out just how cute and popular others considered you. Kelli Cooney, a former Miss Little Syracuse, got so many carnations every year, she couldn't even carry the damn things around. She tried tucking them under her arm like a football, but the burden was so great, she eventually had to give up and store most of them in her locker.
Conversely, if you weren't so cute or so popular -- for example, if, like me, you had thick purple glasses, a mouthful of braces and a haircut identical to Kirk Cameron's on Growing Pains -- you were lucky to get a single pity flower sent by your mother.
Great freaking holiday, huh? Nothing like putting aside one whole day a year to celebrate those who are pretty and beloved, and ridicule those who aren't.
Which brings me back to my original point: guys, don't screw this one up. Valentine's Day may seem silly to you, but for us, there's a lot of baggage that goes along with it. So stay away from the sleazy lingerie and cheesy stuffed bears, and shell out for some roses or maybe a perfect, potted orchid. Trust me, you'll be glad you did.
Posted by Whitney at 1:58 PM | Comments (9)
Comments
LOL!! I *love* the cheesy stuffed bears, because at my house they always come with jewelry attached. This year? A diamond pendant. Navy Guy done good. :) Also chocolates. Also a balloon.
I might have to keep him. hee hee.
Alesia, who wants to send you a houseful of carnations . . .
Posted by: Alesia Holliday ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at February 13, 2006 3:28 PM
No. No. No. I seriously don't want anything for Valentine's Day. I'm too fat for lingerie. I scored big in the jewelry department during the Chrismukanzakah celebrations. Gourmet chocolate eats up too many Weight Watchers points. I don't want to have to run another half-marathon just so I can eat dinner.
Posted by: Eileen at February 13, 2006 3:37 PM
And I thought that damn carnation buying stunt only happened to me. I STILL can't stand those flowers. But roses. Or daisies. Or lilies. I'm okay with. Really.
Posted by: Bethany at February 13, 2006 4:46 PM
I hated those stupid carnations. You always got the pity look when you didn't get any. Or only got one. I met my DH in H.S.. The first year we were together I got a dozen roses, a bracelet, necklace, teddy bear, chocolates and dinner out. He spoiled me that year. He did great until we were married, then downhill from there. *sigh* I love him anyway.
Posted by: Brandy at February 13, 2006 8:24 PM
They still do stuff like this. At least they do at Thing One's junior high. There was some snafu last year and names got mixed up so some girls got flowers from someone else's boyfriend. Apparently, they were several fist fights and many many tears.
Adolescence is an ugly time.
Posted by: Eileen at February 13, 2006 9:13 PM
Ah, Whitney, sniffles! You were not the only one who didn't get Valentine's cards or carnations - nobody wuvved me back in high school, either. I was short and dumpy and could really have done with someone to show me how to pluck my eyebrows :(
But Oh Patient One makes up for the unwuvved years. This year he bought me some of my favorite things - some new CDs :-)
Michelle, who doesn't really like chocolate, and doesn't really wear jewelry (I lose it).
Posted by: Michelle C at February 14, 2006 7:27 AM
They use to do that at the girls' elementary school, except you could buy a sucker for your sweetie, and yes, there was always a few girls with TONS of suckers! I always made sure that I got the girls one from both myself and their dad and I also bought their best friends one too. Nothing worse than looking like a loser on Valentine's Day! My dh just brought me a dozen roses, and they are my favorite colors--salmon, yellow, pink blush--mmmmmm! He knows me so well... I'm not a red rose kind of gal!!
Posted by: Sheri at February 14, 2006 6:49 PM
Oh, man. I'd blocked out the whole carnation thing. Thanks for bringing it up, Whit. My therapist thanks you. She's been looking to do a kitchen remodel. ;)
Also, every year, I tell Fish not to bother with Valentine's Day. It just stresses him out to the extreme. I don't know why, but it does. And I don't need more chocolates, anyway. Well, I might. My ass? Definitely does not. But more to the point - his therapist thanks you, too. She's that much closer to her dream of retiring to Tahiti now. Literary Chicks - making dreams come true, on neurosis at a time...
Posted by: Lani at February 15, 2006 6:34 AM
I had to laugh when I read this entry... I remember the carnations and holding your breath while they were passed out, waiting...waiting...relief when you received more than one. And the torture carried on right through high school.
Posted by: laurenjharwood at February 23, 2006 10:10 AM
