Valentines-Schmalentines

Yesterday I had my little -ectomy at the oral surgeon. I'd tell you what it was but I can't spell it and I honestly don't care. Everyone kept commenting on the fact it was Valentine's Day... oh what a great gift this is, har, har. Really now, I'm just not that into it. Never have been. Even though I'm hitched, it's just not a romantic day for me. It's this forced, fake romantic event when men scramble to buy some candy or other useless crap for women, or vice versa. Don't get me wrong, I loves me some chocolate, maybe a cake or some cookies with frosting (mmm frosting), but just not on that day. Bring me flowers on some random Tuesday in January. Give me chocolate the third Sunday in August. Don't do it because it's expected.

Instead, hubby stayed home with me, took me to the surgeon, brought me home, set me up on the couch with my blanket, bought shakes and applesauce and my pain meds. We watched the Olympics all day then DVR'd a movie. At dinner time he went out and got me mashed potatoes.

Now that's romance for you.