It’s Valentine’s night. Can I get him to say ANYTHING romantic?

HOW can you be married to someone for 18 years and not know them? Like really know them? Well, apparently you can, as I can testify to this week in the aftermath of the most disastrous Valentine’s Day ever – and that includes the time when I was nine and I found out my dad had sent me the only Valentine’s card I got. Devastated! Not so much devastated this time round, more fit to kill. Okay, to be honest, I don’t really hold with all that Valentine’s truck, but still it’s nice to get something, some little gesture to let you know your other half is thinking about you.

I got Himself two lovely bottles of Malbec, one called Love, the other Romeo. Cute, don’t you think? I also purchased a pair of boxer shorts covered in love hearts, a pack of love tickets which entitle him to various treats such as a romantic weekend away (I didn’t say I was paying for it!), breakfast in bed, a massage etc. I contemplated writing him a letter but conceded that it would be completely wasted on him as romantic gestures are definitely not his bag so instead I foolishly bought a couple’s trivia game.

It didn’t get off to a great start. Yes he did get me a card and a book which in theory sounds lovely. I love books.

But he bought me Gone With

The Bloody Wind! I’ve been with him for 22 years. I hate the film. That Scarlett O’Hara drives me mental. Why would he think I’d want the book?

I suspect the book may have been displayed very close to the Valentine’s cards, hence the purchase, but I thanked him graciously. Never look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

So I lit the fire, opened the wine and decided we’d play the couple’s trivia game. This involved asking a series of questions. ‘What was the name of my first pet?’ I asked him. He looked at me blankly. ‘Shep?’ he replied. ‘Sonny!’ piped up the Teenager.

‘What is my favourite time of the day?’ He looked more certain on this one. ‘Not the mornings anyway, haha. Wine o’clock!’ I gave him that one, because it probably is true.

‘If we were a celebrity couple who would we be?’ He didn’t even hesitate. ‘I know this. Posh and Becks!’ I’m disgusted. ‘I hate Posh and Becks.’ He tries again: ‘Brad and Angelina.’ I dislike them nearly as much. How can he have me so wrong?

‘Well, who then?’ he asks. I’m really annoyed now. Does he think I’m that shallow? ‘Someone with a bit of personality who are glamorous as well – obviously, like BOD and Amy.’ Now he looks confused. ‘But you don’t even like rugby.’ Jaysus. Amy probably doesn’t either.

I give it one last go. ‘What first attracted you to me?’ He pauses then as if he’s about to impart something deep and meaningful and says: ‘Your eyes. No, your smile. Well, if I’m being totally honest it was... something else!’

‘But do you think we’re soul mates?’ I implore, looking for something, anything, remotely romantic. ‘Ah sure we’re stuck with each other now.’ He flicks over to the Liverpool match and starts screaming at the score.

I’ve given up.