Love Day

This morning I woke up with a knot of dread in my stomach. It's Valentine's Day today, a Hallmark holiday, but a holiday women seem take very seriously.

The first Valentine's day P and I celebrated together, she gave me a card and kissed me on the cheek. I forgot to buy her anything. I had just been grocery shopping and, desperate to hide the fact I didn't buy her a gift, pulled out two chicken breasts. "It's for dinner" I offered, "Special Valentine's Day dinner."

That night, over Shake & Bake chicken and cans of beer, I opened her card. The words "I Love You" were scribbled out. To this day I'm not sure if she scribbled out the words before or after I wooed her with poultry, but it seemed significant.

Now every year in the days leading up February 14, P reminds me of this. "But I love you all year long" I say, "Why should we let a card company tell us when to celebrate love?"

"Yeah, you're right" is her usual response. And each year she gets progressively larger and larger bouquets.

But this year I haven't bought her anything. No flowers. No candy. Not even chicken. No this year is going to be different. You see, this year V not only stands for Valentine's Day, it also stands for Vasectomy Day. In just a few hours from now I'll walk into my doctor's office a man, and come out a eunuch.

Personally I think it's one of the most romantic, if not the most ironic, Valentine's gift I've ever given her. Fortunately P thinks so too.