February 14, 2005

• SOME women get flowers for Valentine’s Day. Any flowers here? No.

  SOME women get chocolates for Valentine’s Day. Any chocolates here? No.

  SOME women get jewelry for Valentine’s Day. Nary a sparkle here.

  Card? No. Plant? No. CD of romantic music? Nein. Sexy lingerie? Nada.

  Instead, I get pureed organs and curdled milk. Mmmm. . . Ok, I guess it’s all in how you phrase it. My hubbie of ten delightful years brought home for a Valentine’s dinner mousse de canard (Duck liver pate), boucheron de chevre (goat’s milk cheese), and Roquefort au lait cru (RAW MILK Roquefort). That’s love. That’s ten years of KNOWING your spouse. That’s . . . making me very, very happy.

  Here’s the kicker: he’s at the store; he sees the flowers for sale; he says to himself, “Hm. Valentine’s Day. I should get flowers.” Then he thinks (and this is a quote): “I can get one rose for five dollars; or, for the same price, I can get another hunk of cheese. Duh! Like that’s a tough choice–cheese it is!” I LOVE this guy!

  (Of course, right now he’s thinking to himself: “Man, other guys have to buy their wives flowers and jewelry and stupid stuff like that. I’ve got it GOOD.”)

  • 9:24 pm
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