We don’t really celebrate Valentine’s Day in our house.

Mostly because I don’t care for the concept behind the holiday.  Yes, I’m an Ebenezer Scroogentine.

Bah, lovebug.

Mandated flowers and candy on an arbitrary day, simply to show your significant other how much you love them, has always seemed a bit patronizing.  And, if we’re being totally honest with one another, a bit shallow to me.

I pick up flowers randomly (along with other little things), throughout the year for my wife.  Not because I’m told to in order to tally points on a commercial scoreboard of “How Much Does Someone Love You?”
No, I do it because I love her.
And I happen to know she adores fresh seasonal flowers.
And so I like surprising her with them.

Now maybe I’m being a curmudgeon (highly plausible), but something about Valentine’s Day just rubs me the wrong way.  And the flow of roses, strawberries and chocolates that were pumping out of the grocery store last night seem to imply the exact opposite of caring thought and love to me.

To me, they whisper, “I’m doing this because I’m supposed to. And I really don’t want to piss you off.  So here’s a thing.  Quota filled.

And that ain’t love.

Now, all that being said, I think the holiday is totally fine for kids.  And Jen did get Daphne a little pink and eponymous dragon from Dragon’s Lair last week, which is pretty awesome.

And speaking of Daphne, it’s hard to believe that just Last Valentine’s Day we were here…

And 365 days later, we’ve arrived here…



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