Ode to a non-Valentines Day
// February 14th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // Personal
I’m not sappy. I care more about baking a cake with the kids on Valentine’s day than I do about receiving a box of chocolates I know I’ll only eat half of or over priced roses I’ll forget to water and slowly watch choke to death of thirst on the kitchen counter. I don’t stand at the card rack at Hallmark for an hour pouring over long peomed cards to find just the right one.
I’ve been asked if I believe in love at first sight, and while I suppose its does happen, it didn’t exactly happen for me. But on our first date, a blind date at that, within the first few minutes I knew I found you interesting. By the time we finished dinner and headed over to the bookstore to grab a cup of coffee, I knew I wanted to spend more time with you. After our first kiss, I knew I had to see you again.
We spent every night together that week. We played pool, we went to the museum, we had fun. Within a few months, I knew I was falling in love with you. And within a few years I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.
I have faults. Many in fact. I have many nervous little habits, I have medical issues that are sometimes difficult to deal with, I’m pushy and bossy, I take showers that are way too long (it’s the only place I can finish a thought from beginning to end!) But I bake a mean cake, I can make home made mac & cheese like nobody’s business and I’ll always be there to help you pick the right medication or upload a file in the right format.
You have faults, too. You’re not always the most ambitious, you have a 5 o’clock shadow by noon and you’re starting to go ald-bay in the ack-bay of your ed-hay. But you cook dinner nearly every night and you always rub my neck after a hard-day’s work.
Who needs Hallmark to tell us we have to say we love each other today? You are a wonderful husband and a caring father. You support anything and everything I do. You make me laugh at life.
I had someone tell me off today on twitter and at the end she added that I should be thankful that I have “kids and a man.” And you know what? She’s right. While things aren’t always perfect… we have healthy kids and we have each other. And when I’m 80 and wrinkled and gray and laughing at some idiot on TV, I want you 80 and wrinkled and gray laughing right along with me.
You are my best friend.





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