I love the night before Valentine's Day. I love it!
Tonight I was really tired, but my fridge was empty. Around 7:30pm I gave in and went to the grocery store to replace the moldy grapes I'd found in my fridge this morning (why do I always let fruit go bad??). I'd forgotten what day it was.
Then I parked my car.
Men everywhere, buying the last few cards, half-dead flowers, horribly ugly balloons (and really, what woman over the age of 9 wants balloons?), and already discounted boxes of candy. It was awesome.
I love the last-minute-oh-crap-I-totally-forgot-it-was-Valentine's-Day-and-now-what-the-heck-can-I-get-my-wife/girlfriend/partner-for-cheap-but-so-she-doesn't-think-I-forgot trip to the grocery store. There were no less than 5 nervous men in the greeting card isle at any one time while I was in the store.
Just when I had written all these fools off and considered getting some popcorn and a camp chair to sit in front of the store to enjoy the quality people-watching, I was approached by a man in a suit in the dairy section. He was holding his son's hand asked me if I could explain the difference between butter and margarine. We chatted for a bit and he explained that he and his son were trying to bake his wife some cookies from scratch for Valentine's Day but that he had no idea what he was doing. I gave him a few tips and walked away chuckling and smiling.
Seriously, my favorite day of the year....and I almost missed it.