In Which One Might Extrapolate on the Virtues of Their Loved One

It's nearly Valentine's Day. One of my least favorite holidays of the year. One of these days Hubs will probably do something to make me love it, but I'm not counting on it this year. I admit it is a losing battle. He'll have to surprise me with tickets to Hawaii to remove my bah-humbug attitude.

He did come home from work tonight with a dozen roses in my favorite hue. Yellow with the blush rim, whatever they are called. From Aldi, because he knows better. It was a nice surprise to get roses on February 13. Better, even, than the 14th.

Today stank. Charming woke with a fever of 103. I don't know when winter will stop, but it can't be soon enough. Roses helped.

Except I'm totally overwhelmed and overcommitted. And about to burst into tears by 6:59 tonight. Something about holding a burning baby all day when you have valentines to assemble and valentine boxes to finish, and dinner to eat, and roses to put in water and a class you have to lead at 7 and a baby that won't go to sleep, so you have to ditch your husband with three cranky, needy kids with unfinished projects and one hot, sleepy baby.

Yeah, Hubs and I are going through it tonight. We've been going through it together for a couple months now. It doesn't seem to want to let up.

The PRESSURE JUST KEEPS BUILDING!

So here we are at valentines, a day when one might tell the world the wonder that her husband is. But valentines day isn't reality. And in reality I annoy him and he annoys me and our kids annoy us. And we get snippy. And we no longer kiss morning breath. And we aren't the hot little items that we fell in lust with.

And that is O-K. Because we have the other 364 days a year together also. And we have the commitment to keep on doing that for as long as we both shall live. Even when we are annoyed and snippy and when valentines boxes aren't done and when dinner is burned and when the baby is the only hot one around. Even in my long sleeved, long legged, not one iota sexy pajamas. Even with morning breath. Without dinner reservations and without diamonds.

So, to my valentine. Today, tomorrow, and always. I love you, anyway.

And he would say, "You love me because."

And he would be right.