I really hate Valentine’s Day. The only time I ever liked it was when I was a kid, and you got to buy the box of valentines, and decide who you were going to give one to. And when my kids were little, and I took them to shop for their box of valentines, and help them decide who to give them to. Hmmm, maybe if we just all gave everyone a cheesy boxed valentine, this day would be better? What I don’t get is that everyone I know knows that I refuse to “celebrate” this day and instead, refer to it as “Bubba’s Birthday.” Now, it actually is Bubba’s birthday. Bubba is my rather large, cuddly wonderful uber mutt. He loves me no matter what and today, February 14, is his 8th birthday. Let’s see, at 7 dog years per people year, that makes him 56, the perfect age for me!
But back to this non-holiday that Hallmark and See’s makes a fortune off of. Everyone and I mean everyone including my own mother, called to wish me a “happy Valentines!” Even my other chronically single friends do the same thing. What’s with that? Not wanting to be rude, I follow up with Happy Bubba’s birthday!
I can’t wait until tomorrow, when all the hearts and cupids are in the 50% off bin (just like love!) and the Shamrocks and bunnies are in the stores. Nothing like drunken midgets wearing a bad wardrobe preceding an animal that is known for its reproductive prowess to make your month!
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