Today is Valentines day. I’m doomed. This post is doomed.
Why? Not because of the flowers and Hallmark fluffery. Frankly I like flowers. I don’t mind buying them. (Get your head out of the gutter, I’m neither gay nor trying to get out of trouble!) The problem is that I’m one of the lucky few that has found true love. Sappy eh? Makes you want to delete my blog and go surf porn instead. Too bad, it’s true.
So what am I supposed to write about today? Tax codes and tractors? I don’t think so.
I’ve been married forever and I’ve been in love all that time. Old fashioned, lame, boring? Absolutely not! It’s heaven! It’s the only thing that matters.
Which brings me to Valentine’s Day. I’m going to wander around stores trying to find something appropriate. I’ll buy it and it’ll be the wrong size, trite, ugly, or just plain idiotic. Nothing, nothing at all, is adequate to communicate the miracle that is my wife. Certainly nothing I can say or write will be up to the task either. Shakespeare might have known what to say but he was awesome and I’m just a redneck with a laptop.
Those of you who are in the same boat…good luck…and congratulations.
And if my wife is reading (which is not actually likely)…please understand that whatever half-assed, inadequate, shallow, object I bring home is my inadequate attempt to appreciate everything that you are. My Neanderthal wiring can’t quite articulate it but that doesn’t mean I’m not in love every day.
P.S. For my regular readers (if I have any), chill out. I’ll be back to bitching about assholes tomorrow.
Grand post and you do have regular readers. There are ill-tempered old coots with no tolerance for assholes all over the continent. This one is also married to a miraculous wife, so he found the post perfectly matched to the day.
Will stumble by in a few days to see what else you’ve thrown at the wall. It’ll be good. Always is.
My lovely & much-loved wife tells me that it’s the day-to-day things that really say it. I trust her. I’m sure Mrs. AC knows how much you love her.