Husbands, Don’t Forget St. Valentine’s Day

Like so many traditions—some of which we cherish for the rest of our lives, others that become a regularly scheduled and unavoidable nuisance that we want to get through as quickly and painlessly as possible—the observance of St. Valentine’s Day begins in elementary school for most of us.  And for some, it is one of the most awkward days of the year.  While preparing the many cards we plan to pass out to members of the opposite sex, we can’t help but wonder (and worry) if the gesture will be returned in kind; even if it is, it isn’t always the person we hoped it would be that has that little card for us.  Then you have to accept the card graciously and hope that you aren’t leading the undesirable person on, or sit through the rest of the class feeling dejected and embarrassed because you didn’t get any cards.  Meanwhile, all of your friends are happily showing off all the cards that they got.

This is just one of many ways that we adults go out of our way to traumatize children.  Of course, it’s only the ones who didn’t get cards that are crushed by the experience, and they are always a minority, but since when does that make it a good thing?

So, should we ban St. Valentine’s Day celebrations in school?  Hell no!  As one of the dejected few (at least one year that I can remember), I know that while not getting a card is terribly humiliating, it also builds character.  This is one of many experiences that taught me not to care about what other people thought of me—or at least how people I don’t know or don’t like think about me.  Without this hardening, I would never have become the laconic, outspoken, opinionated person that I am.  And I like me just fine.

As adults, we narrow the target field for our cards, usually to that one special person who is our better half, either through a committed relationship or marriage.  And once we’re married (speaking on behalf of men here), we had damn well better not forget Valentine’s Day, even though it means nothing to us other than a chance to make the wife happy enough to hopefully share some of that happiness at bedtime. 

So men, take your wife out for a special meal, or make a special meal for her at home, complete with candlelight.  Toast to her beauty and if you can remember to, buy her a stupid Hallmark card.  If nothing else, buy her some flowers.  And you don’t have to get roses; just some carnations will brighten her day and won’t cost you a bundle.  And while you’re doing these things, be grateful that our wives don’t insist on reenacting what happened to St. Valentine on February 14, 269 AD, or those charming, sweet and loving women we married would beat us with clubs, stone us and ultimately cut off our heads.  Or they may take a more modern approach and go Al Capone on us all.

Thank God for florists.  Be sure to tip him generously for saving your life.