I Don’t Want Anything for Valentine’s Day. Or Do I?
Please don’t get me anything for Valentine’s Day. I mean it. I don’t need anything. I don’t need you to give me material things to show me how much you love me. I know you love me. That’s all that matters!
I mean, OK, if you really want to do something to show me you love me this Valentine’s Day, you can just make me something. Handmade gifts are the best! I would love nothing more than a thoughtful handmade Tiffany diamond ring or card.
If you do make me a card, you don’t have to write a love poem in it or anything like that. I don’t need all that mushy stuff. Besides, not many words rhyme with my name, Robin. Bobbin? No, that’s not good for a poem. Maybe try love. Dove … glove … in awe of … I don’t want to put words in your mouth.
I for sure don’t need a pretty heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day. You never know what is inside each piece, so you have to take a little bite out of all of them just to find the one you like—which is all of them. But no, I can’t eat them anyway, because I’m trying to not eat sweets. Unless it’s a special occasion.
Some women like getting adorable red or pink teddy bears for Valentine’s Day. You know, the ones that have I Love You embroidered on them. But not me! I can’t even imagine where I would keep something like that, besides on my bed or on the couch or in the back window of my car or on my desk at work. Where would I put something like that?
I don’t need to go out for a fancy dinner on Valentine’s Day. Even if we wanted to get a table at a fancy restaurant for Valentine’s Day, we wouldn’t be able to now. It’s too late. Right? Are you sure? Maybe we should call around.
You did? Oh. Well, there’s no need to make a special romantic candlelit dinner for me at home. I don’t need a perfectly cooked filet mignon with mashed potatoes and asparagus—I’m fine with leftovers or frozen pizza. “No Fuss” is my middle name! For sure, don’t worry about making a delicious creamy cheesecake with cherry topping for dessert. Cheesecake is hard to make. (There are really easy recipes online.)
Oh, and definitely don’t get me red roses for Valentine’s Day. Yuck! Who would want red roses? Pink roses are prettier. But as I said, please don’t get them for me. They will just die anyway, and I would be able to really enjoy them for only a week or so—well, probably longer if I put an aspirin in the water. They would probably stay pretty for almost two weeks. Maybe three. But don’t get me any. I don’t need them.
And don’t even think about planning a surprise romantic Valentine’s weekend getaway. I don’t need to be whisked away for a fun trip to know that you love me. That would be just too much planning! How would I pack for a surprise trip? You would have to pack a suitcase for me, and then I would have to wear what you packed for me. Like a bikini.
Or my comfy flats that would make it easier to walk on the cobblestones in, say, Rome.
Or that blue sweater (in the third drawer on the right side of the dresser, beneath the gray shawl) to keep me warm during those chilly February nights in Paris.
But I know you, and I’m sure you are sensible and know a surprise romantic trip would not be something I would enjoy at all.
It’s a cruise, isn’t it? You booked us on a romantic cruise?
Discover the surprisingly dark history of Valentine’s Day!
Originally published as You Can’t Help But Laugh at This Funny Valentine’s Day Story on ReadersDigest.com.