There use to be a time that depression would kick in around Valentine's. All that talk about romance, roses, candlelight dinners and the slew of images of beautiful people, happy together plastered on billboards and on TV… Yes Valentine's got my goat, showed me that I didn't have a Valentine, made me feel depressed…
Until I met my French Husband that is.
I remember waking up that first Valentine's morning in France. I could hardly contain my excitement. My head was full of wishful thinking. I leaned over to my newlywed husband and said, "Happy Valentine's Valentine!"
By the look of his face I knew he hadn't a clue about what I was saying.
After I explained what Valentine's meant to me, I learned that Valentine's wasn't celebrated in France.
I was so surprised I pushed him off the bed.
That was over twenty years ago….
Valentine's has never been the same. Sometimes we remember to mark the day, sometimes we don't. It doesn't matter if I receive roses, or a candlelight dinner or sweet trinkets of affection. I am happy even if my boys decide to go skiing on Valentine's day and leave me home alone.
But…. I did manage to say as the walked out the door…. "Happy Valentine's My Lovely Dear Handymen to be!"
They quickly turned around giving me a smirky look and a grunt.
"Just teasing," I said, "Though if a handyman shows up in a red overalls…."
"What is red overalls?" asked French Husband.
"Sexy hot," I laughed.
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