Valentine’s? It’s a love-hate relationship

WHY is Valentine’s Day a week-long event now?

It’s only 24 hours! Come on! The clue is in the name, people!

I’m not having it. The madness needs to stop.

If you haven chosen not to celebrate it at all, then my apologies for dragging it out even longer by mentioning it.

But I’m just perplexed at the extra space it’s trying to take up in our calendars.

What’s wrong with a little M&S meal deal for two, a 99p card from the Card Factory and maybe watching a film on the sofa together, if you can stay awake long enough to enjoy it?

Why does it have to be all gargantuan foil decorations and extortionate nights away?

Am I just being a right old misery guts over it all?

Mr C. did get me a bunch of roses, a lovely card and some chocolates.

Even though every year I tell him not to bother.

I suspect this is only 50% because he isn’t sure if I’m just saying it.

The rest of his motivation is because he is a real romantic at heart.

I am not.

So he got a card from Saino’s and some beer.

This was before he announced he was off to spend Valentine’s Day with his baby momma No 1 as their daughter wanted help from both parents in choosing a wedding venue.

Otherwise I would have demanded a refund, obviously.

So, I spent V-Day with our four-year-old instead.

Who has only just discovered what Valentine’s Day/ Week(?) is. And is positively overzealous in her desire to celebrate the heck out of it. She made me a love bug out of what a I strongly suspect is an empty loo

roll.

Very cute. If slightly hygienically dubious.

And a handmade card, or twelve.

Then we had to go shopping to buy each other special treats.

Which turned out to be an XXL bucket of popcorn (which neither of us ever eat), and, somewhat inexplicably, a stuffed toy Picachu. Hashtag romance.

I did enjoy her asking why all the big boys were “walking fast in the shops with so sad faces.”

And so introduced her to the wonderful world of menfolk, and their long standing tradition of last minute panic-buying for all celebrations.

She nodded gravely, so I think she understood.

Today I was forewarned that the weekend would consist of us cutting out heart shapes, colouring them in red and purple, then pinning them to each other’s chests.

Which feels far more authentically like the prison conditions good old St. Valentine found himself in.

I was also forewarned that we were making lists of things we love and like about each other, before running around, “very, very fast”.

So, pray for me, and my poor aging body, obviously.

If you are going out this weekend for Valentine’s celebrations, then I do not understand you, but I wish you well.

And politely request that you consider taking my lastborn daughter with you.

Because I am fully done with this absolute non-holiday, event!

“...the wonderful world of menfolk, and their long tradition of last minute panic-buying