First, let me start with a disclaimer: When it comes to Holly and me and Valentine’s Day
, the stakes are admittedly low. We love each other, our marriage is solid, our sex life
is...none of your business, we laugh together all the damn time. So Holly isn't exactly the kind of girl who wakes up expecting a pony on February 14, and I am not exactly the kind of guy who thinks that if I present her with a diamond tennis bracelet, I'll finally get that all-access pass in the sack that I've been dreaming of since junior high. In other words, we are both adults and realists.
And together, after a bit of back and forth, we agreed to go out to a great dinner the night after Valentine’s Day to avoid being rushed through a crowded prix fixe meal. But I still should have at least brought home flowers, or a card, or something
. Unfortunately, this realization hit me about five hours too late. By the guidelines in this Gawker article
, I'm a complete failure (apparently managing to pick up last-minute flowers is considered a cop out). So, yeah. I'm glad I get a shot at a do-over, so I have another chance to knock it out of the park next year.
But tell me, did any of the rest of you drop the ball, or am I alone here?
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