The Wife and I are hopeless romantics. By which I mean we are utterly hopeless when it comes to being romantic. We truly are. We used to be better, before kids and jobs and money stress and, well, life took over our lives. I had absolutely intended to do something big for Valentine’s Day. Then yesterday it dawned on me that…I hadn’t.
Today I actually sent her the following super-romantic text:
In the interest of transparency, I am going to buy you some chocolates or something small for Valentine’s. I think it’s important that the kids see us appreciating and loving each other.
Hot stuff, huh? To which she replied:
I will too. Going to get the kids licorice.
I hope this isn’t TMI for you, being privy to our salacious correspondence. This is what people refer to as sexting, right?
It’s true, I want the kids to have good, romantic role models. I’m just exhausted by the expectation that it be us. Don’t I do enough for them? Now I have to be affectionate with my wife too? Ug, I’m the worst.
So, along with all the other last minuters, today I swung by LUSH with The Boy in tow and picked up a few things for The Wife. This, of course, involved The Boy touching every single damn thing in the store, trying to get me to buy him about $300 worth of fancy smelly things, insisting that the wife would really, really like the robot bath bomb, and generally driving me insane. But we had fun smelling stuff and testing out all the testers and then picking out a few select romantic items. (Once he read that the big bath bomb is called the Sex Bomb, he refused to touch it again.) And then I picked up the most fitting bottle of wine.
The Wife was adorable, coming up our walkway with a bouquet of flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates for me. My heart did a little flip and I thought, “Hey! We’re doing it! We’re being sort of romantic!” As I gave her a hug and kiss in the doorway and she handed me the chocolates, she whispered romantically in my ear, “They were on sale.”
Happy Valentine’s Day, Bub. I sure do love you. Just you wait; the next Valentine’s Day is going to be so romantic. Or maybe the one after that. We’ll see.