Happy Valentines Day, Winos! I am anxiously awaiting hubby to return home from a trip but the weather has him delayed. I sure hope he gets home before the wine store closes
So in the meantime, here’s a little story about why I’m really not a fan of Valentines Day (aka Black Friday).
(I REALLY hope my ex-boyfriend doesn’t read my blog. But this is a Valentines Day tale that has to be told. This is a lesson to all you single ladies or ladies who should be single.?
This is how I could tell that he wasn’t really that into me…
Let me set the scene… we had been “on and off” for a few years. When I look back now, we should have been off more than on but hindsight is 20/20. We were nearing the end of a particularly tumultuous “on” period and Valentines Day drew near.
I don’t actually remember what, if anything, that I got him… maybe a case of beer or something. But when I got my Valentines Day present from him… I knew… it was time.
Yes, he did bring me flowers. Yes, he did pick out a card. So he went through all the motions… BUT…
The flowers were orange carnations, dipped in brown.
Let that sink in.
Orange. And. Brown. (At least I think they were dipped. Maybe they were just brown. Dead. Like our relationship.) Apparently that’s all that was left at the Superstore at 5pm. Yup, Superstore.
The card? It had a picture of cow on it. Inside was some funny tie between the cow and Valentines Day. I didn’t get the humour. Still don’t.
So to summarize: Dead-like flowers and a cow card.
He REALLY wasn’t that into me.
That was our last Valentines Day together. We broke up soon afterward. I had my eye on another guy anyway. That guy ended up asking me to marry him. And never, ever gave me carnations. He is a smart man.
Guess you have to get a few dead carnations and cow cards on the road of love.
So girls, whether you get brownish orange carnations or 12 long-stem red roses… don’t settle.
If all else fails, go out and buy your own flowers. Just don’t get carnations.
(BONUS: On the day of our wedding the florist mistakenly put carnations in my bouquets. After a phone call from a carnation hating bridezilla, he promptly returned with new bouquets.)