I’ve had some pretty spectacular Valentine’s Days in the past. Romantic ones. Quiet ones. Ones where the evening cost way too much money, and others where it barely cost a dime. Thusly, I kinda consider myself an expert. And as such, I’ve figured out the perfect formula:
Have more than one Valentine with whom to spend the day.
I actually have four. They all celebrate with me in very different ways- although none of them particularly ascribe to the diamonds n’ gushy cards route. (Even though I’d super appreciate a good diamond and/or gushy card.)
So there’s P.J. (You’ve probably heard of him.) He’s this guy who keeps creating mini clones that I (EVER SO GRACIOUSLY) have hosted for 39 weeks apiece. In exchange for all of that, he’s been known to spend an evening on the couch with me, a bottle of red, and an old movie. (Even though wine makes him sleepy and old movies make him OH MY GOD SO SLEEPY I CAN’T HOLD MY HEAD UP.) He investigates 2am noises that- I’ll totally admit- might not even be real noises. And he makes me laugh until I Ugly Cry for reasons that have nothing [much] to do with our mutual exhaustion.
Nora is also my Valentine. Now there’s a girl who can watch a good ol’ fashioned movie with me. But she also draws pictures of me (alongside my name written out 12 times), and I look very good. Tall, with flowing locks…and three legs. Sometimes a tail or someone random in my belly. She holds my hand as we [occasionally, wonderfully] nap together on the couch, telling me that this right here is the favorite moment of her day. She’s also got the secret to making most anything even fancier. (Hint: it’s all in the presentation. And available candy.)
Yes, sometimes love can be exhausting.
Susannah is most definitely a Valentine of mine. You know what the coolest thing about this kid is? She could be eating her absolute favorite treat in the world, but if you asked her for it she would totally hand it to you with a grin. I mean, she might later ask for it back and be completely confused by your answer, but she’d give you the shirt off her back if it’d make you happy. (This is easy for her to offer, since she’s generally naked anyhow.) She’s also been known to place special things in my pocket for me to marvel at/make wishes on, like sparkly stickers, glass beads, and- my favorite- imaginary objects which she sometimes takes back in a huff (and emphatic “Mudda“) and pretends to eat.
And Jasper? Oh, that kid gives Cupid himself a run for the money. Here’s how Jasper loves me: at any time of the day or night (and let’s be honest, it’s usually the night), I can glance down at his face to find him absolutely beaming at me like he’s discovered the secret to happiness- and it lives in his mother’s face and arms (and let’s be honest, usually boobs).
So that’s the secret. (No, not boobs.) It’s to spend the day with a variety of people, all of whom think you’re the bee’s knees and the cat’s pajamas. No need for diamonds or gushy cards at all.
Unless someone reading really feels so incredibly inclined.
I’ll play along.
I’m a really good sport.
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