Well, guys, it's fast approaching. I'm talking about the dreaded date of February 14th. It taunts and smirks at me from the calendar like a demon waiting to pounce from the darkness of hell. It's unlike other yearly events such as birthdays and anniversaries. They are ingrained in our minds, especially if you've ever forgotten one and had to sleep on the sofa for weeks. Valentine's Day seems to hide and takes us by surprise every year, sending us into a panic of what to do that will redeem us for the crappy gift we bought our wife or girlfriend at Christmas.
It's like a silent killer. If a man gets busy and forgets about Valentine's Day, believe me, you'll hear about it on February 15th when all hell breaks loose. In my experience, a cheesy commercial about pink footed pajamas or bouquets of flowers usually reminds me of the upcoming event before it's too late. The finely tuned mind of a woman usually can tell that you didn't remember until the last minute. There may be tell-tale signs such as the 97 cent chocolate heart has a broken corner, or the valentine you gave her is handmade from scrap paper because you waited so late that the store was sold out of cards. While we're on the subject of cards, here's another tip. Don't purchase a humorous valentine because women don't have a sense of humor on this day. They want romance, so you can be a comedian on the other 364 days of the year.
This year is a little different than most. Out of the blue, my wife reminded me of the upcoming event and announced that she had found an expensive ring she liked. This news obviously spoiled my surprise of the 97 cent chocolate heart that I was planning to give her. She graciously offered that this purchase would also suffice for her birthday and anniversary gift. Wow! All three special days taken care of with one gift? That sounded pretty good until I became suspicious that selective memory on her part would probably rear it's ugly head as the birthday and anniversary dates approach.
This year, it looks like I've been stood up against a wall in a Chicago warehouse and mowed down by the Capone mob with tommy guns, just like in the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre. Ooohhh! They got me right in the wallet!
