La Vida Loca

Poor old French Hubby has a complete mental block about Valentine's Day. Every year he is surprised by it, and every year he tells me "But it's on the 15th February". And every year I say "No, it's TODAY", and the sad truth is that he missed it AGAIN.

Do you think if I hit him over the head very hard with my frying pan, but using a precisely calculated trajectory, it might bump the mental glitch in his synapses from 15th to 14th February?

Honestly, every single year he says "But it's tomorrow!" Dear old French Hubby must walk around in a private little bubble of oblivion. Every year I say "But everybody's been talking about it all day! You can't have escaped the advertising!" Oh he hears the advertising alright, but he thinks it's a kind of Valentine's Eve build-up for the next day!

And every single year I say to him through gritted teeth "We. Had. This. Conversation. Last. Year."

Last night I had modest plans for an easy (i.e. no cooking involved), slap-up meal for the two of us, but sadly the fancy delicatessen was closed. So I arrived home bearing a 'special' Valentine baguette from the bakery, planted a chaste kiss on his cheek (the facial kind of cheek), and heated up a carton of supermarket soup for our dinner... Wow! We're really livin' La Vida Loca!

At bedtime I tried to snuggle up to him with my cold feet (as usual) and he pushed me away with his hot paws (as usual), and I protested "But you have to! This is the one day of the year when I'm allowed uninterrupted snuggles! IT'S THE LAW!"