I used to hate Valentine's Day. It reminded me that I was single and the only valentine I would get would be from my parents and the boy who ate glue in class.
Then I met him.
I know that you'll hate me when I say that my husband makes a huge deal out of anniversaries, Valentines Day, birthdays, ect. He always plans a surprise and then tortures me with the secret. It usually involves dinner, something sparkly in a little box, something sugary and a card that makes me blush.
Yeah, I don't know where he came from, either.
It reaffirms that although I may have made some bad choices in the dating season of life, I got it right when I married him. He's my very own tall, Texas boy that makes such a fuss over me that I didn't believe it at first, and now I am completely and irrevocably spoiled. So spoiled, in fact, that I don't mind that he ate all of the Valentine sugar cookies.
Nope, I won't mention it at all...