I don’t really do Valentines Day.  The reasons behind this are both practical and sentimental.

The main reason is because it’s so close to my birthday which is at the end of January.  Which is in turn close to Christmas, 4 weeks before.  I kind of feel like I’m taking the P— expecting my boyfriend to buy me presents 3 months in a row.  I mean, he bought me (among a load of other lovely bits & pieces) a new Canon EOS 500D camera for Christmas.  And then he whisked me away to the sunshine in Tenerife for my birthday.  I can’t ask for more in February, it just seems a bit much really, a bit wrong somehow.

The second reason is because I hate the idea of having one day set aside to tell your significant other that you love them.  I tell W that I love him every day of the year (and vice versa).  I don’t need to give him a card or chocolate or buy him dinner or perform other unmentionable acts that shall remain nameless (This is a family blog* for god’s sake! Get your head outta the gutter…) or anything else.  And I’d rather know that acts of romance by him to me are done spontaneously and from the heart, not because a card company told him he should or that he feels a sense of obligation because of a date on a calendar.

Now, that all being said… if W wanted to surprise me with a room like this on February 14th or really, any other day of the year, well a girl wouldn’t say no, now, would she.  Ahem.

*This is in no way a family blog.  I mean, I can have a potty mouth sometimes but we knew this didn’t we?  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Image via here.

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