My husband has never been a traditionally romantic man. In fact, he even warned me when we were dating that he didn’t know how to be romantic. He has never bought me a gift of chocolates or, at the very least, a single red rose in our 30+ years together. So I’m not actually expecting too much in the way of romance this Valentine’s Day either.
However my husband is not quite as gauche as my grandfather. One must be grateful for small mercies after all.
When my grandmother gave birth to their first child my grandfather went to the hospital to see them both after all the messy stuff was done with as was the wont in those days.
Before he left home his father-in-law had suggested that he should take the new mother some flowers and chocolates. After all, not only had she given him a son but Valentine’s Day and their first Wedding Anniversary had taken place while she was in the hospital.
And this is what actually happened …
He arrived in his wife’s room with two newspaper-wrapped packages.
He gave her the first one which contained some bedraggled flowers he had taken from the garden on his way out, roots and all.
He then tossed the other parcel (a box of chocolates) on the bed and said: “Here, guts yourself on these!”
Awww – I knew romance wasn’t dead after all – it’s just simply comatose, at least in my family.