Today is a big day. In my own world Valentines Day was never celebrated but the rest of the world is spreading love everywhere. Plans for surprise proposals that will surface on Youtube, pounds of chocolates and heart-shaped everythings have been sold, stragglers are sure to pay for a hefty overpriced love trinket or single wrapped rose because they waited until the last-minute to prove their love, and women all around await with bated breath and big hopeful eyes that they will not be forgotten on the most romantic day of the year.
I get to have romance 24/7 with my loved one. Cheesy? You bet. Can you guess why?
Fine, I’ll just tell you. He never cooks dinner (unless you are a man reading this, so I guess grilling up some hot dogs once in a while and making a bbq a few times a year counts). He never leaves love notes on my pillow (though once I found a nice note in the car reminding me some stuff – errands – for the day (..that was at best thoughtful). After year one I can’t really remember getting flowers (don’t cry for me, I have terrible allergies).
So it’s not traditional but I can best describe it with an example.
We were up pretty late watching a show when I remembered to tell him that I needed to work a special event Sat night. He phrased his question funny and I couldn’t resist responding appropriately, plus it was pretty late as I mentioned and I was kind of silly (who me?) at that hour. He asked: What do you need to work as? My response: as a waitress in a cocktail bar.
Those of you who know Billy Joel will catch the reference. As it happens the only concert we ever went to was a Billy Joel concert. (back-story folks). I was really pregnant and we lived in Jersey, the concert was in Jersey, but blondie left our tickets to the concert in his government office drawer in NYC. So even though the couple that we were supposed to meet were already there and enjoying we got stuck in traffic, naturally, and government bureaucracy (why would he NEED something from his office after hours, he may or may not have forgotten his ID badge), we got stuck in traffic on the way back, got lost in the parking lot until we found an open doorway, walked half way around the stadium before we found our seats and made it just as Billy belted out, “a bottle of red, a bottle of white” and the crowd went wild. We made it for like 2 songs. They were at least 2 we knew…so it ended well. That typical funniness, the quirkiness, the oddball actions – that’s real romance. I’m not joking, when I can make my bestie laugh out loud in the middle of the night with a quick one liner and a Billy Joel quote, that’s romantic! We get that every day here at the fun factory.
Just the other day when I reached into my purse for my keys and magically there was some ABC gum stuck to them, I laughed in a grossed out kinda’ way. I would NEVER share that with him because he suffers gumphobia (a story that’s all his to tell, sorry, kids), but to me laughter is romance, those crazy kids are extensions of us. They remind me daily of the love I share with my partner in this really weird (read: romantic) way. That’s love and you can’t wrap that up in a heart-shaped box.