In my youth I bought into all the commercialized brain washing of expectations from my Valentine. You know. Godiva chocolates, long stem roses, Gund doll, mushy card, expensive dinner and dessert, drinks at 51st floor of the Manulife Centre’s Panorama to enjoy the view while dressed in new shoes, outfit, and my nails, hair and face done, then off to a luxury Hotel. Then that became too little. Then I wanted trips! Nothing ridiculous. Just short ones. Niagara Fall or Montreal in addition to everything else.
Then Franklin’s health was starting to dwindle in our early twenties. When we found out he had kidney issues (read how we found out here) all I wanted was for him to survive. He did. Sure there were hospital stays, surgeries, moving out of his parents home to accommodate the dialysis at home, he was the only one with income (disability from work, I just finished University), etc, but he was at least ‘stable’. Now, all I wanted was stuff that didn’t take money. A good home-cooked meal. A card that he wrote his heart filled love talk. Draw me a hot bath.
Well, we’ve come full circle. I want the best of both worlds. Feed me. Declare your undying love. But, also wake up early with the kids so I can sleep in. Feed the family AND do the dishes.
As you get older you come to realize that Valentines is just one over-priced, means nothing get-out-of-jail-for-slacking-the-other-364-days day. (I’m not that old, but my soul is. This life path ages you) I am really selfish. I want Valentines EVERYDAY and that is not asking too much. A happy wife happy life post keeps things in check for me. But, if I could only ask for one thing it would be for him to take care of himself so I won’t have to. Give me that gift everyday, and I’ll be happy.
I lie. I want that AND jewelry, chocolates, and to sleep in. Hey, I’m still human, not a saint. Everyone has to have a little bling 🙂