XOXO, I forgot about Valentine’s Day.

   Valentine’s Day has for ages been the annual celebration of love. As Wikipedia states, “It is traditionally a day on which lovers express their love for each other by presenting flowers, offering confectionery, and sending greeting cards (known as “valentines“). The day first became associated with romantic love in the circle of Geoffrey Chaucer in the High Middle Ages, when the tradition of courtly love flourished.”

In modern times this description can better be translated as “It is a day on which crowds of men wander the aisles of Walgreens at 11:49 pm  for flowers, chocolates, and cards with frilly love poems to be deemed  socially acceptable partners by cultural standards.”  There is no talk of February 14th that does not evoke the image of a panicked man and a gift-anticipating woman.

So, I guess all this goes to say that I am the dude?

In my house, it is the man who is the more thoughtful and well-prepared soul. He savours mushy cards and  hides “moist” eyes when you present him with a heartfelt present. I am the forgetful, insensitive spouse that only keeps a greeting card if it came with cash and sheds a tear for nothing. Heart of stone. Head of Air. I will wait until the very last minute to find a gift for him, and, from the crinkled tissue paper to the exposed bargain-bin price tag, said gift will scream “I hope you don’t have feelings, or else they’re ’bout to get hurt!”.

     Without fail, my companion remembers every birthday and holiday months in advance and prepares like he’s about to take the LSAT. He understands that caring and general goodness are sometimes foreign to me, so he makes an honest attempt to help me along. For weeks he has dropped hints, and by “hints” I mean “stern warnings that The Lover’s Holiday is fast approaching, and I will feel like a jerk if I insist on forgetting”. I have been told for weeks that he has already purchased my gift, wrapped my gift, called his mom to describe this perfect gift, and hidden the perfect, purchased-and-papered gift. I heard him… just like the football-watching husband hears his wife when she’s blabbering about her latest diet. Yes, dear. Yes, dear. Yes, dear. Sure, dear. I’m goin’ to bed.

        Not even the smattering of related blog posts I’ve come across have driven the point home. All the pink aisles of the grocery store, all the websites flashing clever V Day gift ideas, and I needed a bilingual cartoon to set the ball in motion. Yes, Handy Manny announced “Feliz Día de San Valentín!” to his animated tools. This was what it took for me to become properly motivated to remember Valentine’s Day.

 I stood up in a flurry. Must find gift now. Must have heart. With a baby dangerously close to falling asleep while standing up and freezing cold temperatures outside, I decided to flex some domestic muscle. I scoured the drawers for glue and tape and any other form of crafty adhesive. I made a list of things I am good at making, but this proved less than helpful. The only successful art project I have ever completed was a hand-shaped turkey (hardly appropriate for celebrating anything but one’s love of dark meat). I took to the Internet, venturing to the Holy Mecca of Crafts to consult with Her Hot Glue Highness, Martha Stewart. To my delight, she shed some genius light on DIY valentines. To my horror, no human being can possibly re-create this stuff without a palatial wing dedicated to scalloped-edge paper presses and buckets of semi precious gems.

 I suppose I should not have been surprised. Simple is in the eye of the bedazzler, and Martha emerges from the penitentiary wearing a poncho knit with two shivs and a pile of inmate hair. Onward to easier options!

I am sad to admit that I did spend several minutes seriously considering the Waffle House Romance Night. This is Tennessee. I love waffles. And “scattered, smothered, and covered” almost sounds sexy. After much deliberation, I realized this flyer was for an elite Waffle House in Georgia.

       Grandiose plans for handmade, emerald-lined hearts and a candlelit devouring of the #3 Combo would not come to fruition. I’d have to make do with what I had:

- Plastic CD cases

- Wood glue

- Sharpie

- Children’s Toy

Eureka! The final ingredient for my Love Treat…I remembered the unfortunate mix up that occurred when I tried to find the man a clever Christmas gift.

Sitting atop the refrigerator was the Pimp Stick Box in all its glory.My fiance’s expensive Christmas gift came in what was marketed as a “classy, vintage cigar box”. Classy is debatable. I received a shaving kit in a box labeled Pimp Stick Double Torpedo, and cringed at the thought of presenting this to my partner in front of his sweet parents. Desperation coupled with the thought that Valentine’s is the only time to employ tacky innuendo, I grabbed the dirty box and got to work. I must have a presentable, seemingly heartfelt gift for our date tonight.

    The love-soaked words were easy: “I Love You a WHOLE Lot”, “Your love is out of this world”, and “If you could see my hands, they’d be giving you a thumbs up”. Poetic, no? Words aside, in the creative process I realized that I cannot cut a symmetrical heart shape to save my life, and it is absolutely possible to glue two fingers to a wooden box by accident. I was hoping to really wow my thoughtful man, but the game plan has changed. Now, I am wishing for a modest and uncomfortable laugh that reads, “God bless your heart. At least you tried this time!”.

Martha is weeping.

Ugh….For all my effort and scarred fingertips, it is truly heinous.

Men, I’ll see you at the red and pink aisle.

What are you giving to your loved one this Valentine’s Day?