Yesterday The Ethiopian and I were checking out at Whole Foods (where, sidenote – I purchased a $32 roast that was the WRONG cut of meat. Win! But high-five to Whole Foods for allowing me to return it) and right now the place looks more like a florist when you walk in than it does a grocery store.

So, I turn and say in jest, that if I don’t get flowers on Valentine’s Day, there is going to be hell to pay. You guys need to know that my husband really doesn’t buy flowers. We’ve been together about 11 years and that’s probably about the number of times he’s bought flowers for me – he’s just not that guy. And by and large, I’m okay with it. If I want flowers, I ask for them. I’ve gotten them unexpectedly a few times – but I’d bet my entire wardrobe that he has no idea what my favorite flower is (the peony).

So, in true from he responded “I’m not from here, so I don’t believe in your made-up holidays.” The cashier giggled and asked where he was from, and then were I was from and then told us that she was from Morocco and looked at The Ethiopian and said “So, I understand completely where you’re coming from.”

Look, I know it’s a “Hallmark holiday” that’s designed to generate revenue and I’m okay with that because at the root of it – it’s about love, too. And it doesn’t have to be romantic love. It’s as good of time as any to tell the people that you love them. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures, flowers or jewelry – but certainly those things aren’t hurting anyone. And even though I hate changing their water & I know that they’ll die in a week – I still want flowers, damn it!