Let's leave the romance to the paperback books
Okay ladies, it’s time to put down that romantic novel. You know the one where there is a handsome pirate displayed on the front cover, with his shirt half torn off showing bulging muscles and tight abdominals. He is clutching a buxom, equally beautiful lady around the waist, having just saved her from certain danger of evil sharks swimming around the ship and is whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
This is never going to happen in your lifetime. That is why it is called a romantic novel, not that I ever read such junk; probably one of those crazy kids, threw it out the car window and it landed in my garbage can.
The reality of a novel about your life is probably more than likely a husband on the cover of the paperback wearing a T-shirt stretched so tight across his chest it looks like amoeba trying to burst out of the bubble of a Petri dish.
And he’s not holding any woman either, but rather a salami so large it could be considered a concealed weapon in one hand, a bag of chips dangling from between his teeth while he hisses sweet nothings in a voice loud enough to break crystal, “Where’s the remote.” Yes, that’s your novel.
Now I’m just warning everyone that in less than a few weeks Valentine’s Day is going to rear its head. Planning ahead for a major girl holiday like this is essential; women have been planning for it ever since kindergarten when they dropped that first little card into the decorated Valentine’s Day box.
It’s not quite a state of emergency yet. But even if your wife wears tube socks and a nightgown made of burlap bag material to bed, she is still going to think it is a romantic holiday that defines your relationship, and heck, to put it in simpler terms, she is going to want a Valentine’s gift and not just a rose that looks like it’s been sitting under ultraviolet lights at McDonald’s and which you bought at the convenience store because once again you were too busy.
Sure you remember dates; it’s just that getting the oil change on your car and picking out your fantasy baseball teams before spring training starts is going to have to take a back seat to this one day. Really? Yeah, really. Trust me, there is a fine line between premeditation and justifiable when a motive comes before a jury, especially when a man comes home empty handed.
This isn’t that hard, guys. And it doesn’t even have to be that expensive. You have a number of options. Personally I love a box of chocolates. In fact, the bigger the better. I would like one the size of those floral arrangements they have when they are holding a wake for some mob boss. Or maybe as large as the Kentucky Derby roses draped over the winning horse. That would be the ultimate.
And in bright purple too, with all kind of fancy ribbons. See a woman loves this stuff. To her it says, now look at what that fool bought, but in her mind she knows if a guy’s taste is this bad, then it’s a good thing she married him because without her he’d be nothing. This is just what you want a woman to think. You’re so thoughtful, you could probably take the rest of the day off and go possum hunting all you want.
Of course, guys need to be remembered too. But here you can go for a more practical gift. For instance, there is a whole series of books on how to open a dishwasher and place a glass inside, how to turn on an oven, and my personal favorite, how your underwear gets from the laundry basket and into the washing machine. Don’t worry, the books are done in stick figures and are only one page.
So, mark your calendars early. And guys, it’s easy to remember Valentine’s Day falls on the 14th of February, or you can think of the date as two touchdowns.