Valentine's Day is a Fascist Plot

Charlie-boy was lovely today. He hates Valentine’s Day, he thinks it’s all a fascist plot to send everyone into debt by trying to outdo each other with how much plastic, heart-shaped tat they can buy their girlfriends, and how much they will overspend on a fake-romantic meal. Whereas I think Valentine’s Day is fab. (Or it ought to be if I ever got a Valentine!)

Personally I think it’s the one day of the year when every long-suffering girlfriend who has been ignored all year long in favour of either beer and footy matches or computers and geeky magazines (depending on whether her boyfriend is a yob or a geek) can justifiably demand that her yob or her geek:
1) buys her a big expensive present that isn’t any kind of man-gadget bought, in reality, because he wants one himself and can play with it whenever he’s round her place;
2) gives her flowers (and a big, special bouquet too – even the thickest bloke knows that a 99p bunch of carnations just won’t cut it on Valentine's Day, even if they are pink);
3) takes her out alone, with not a mate of his in sight, and spends all evening talking to her rather than over her shoulder at someone else;
4) and says “I love you” as many times as possible so that she can get her year’s worth before the clock chimes midnight.
Without Valentine's Day all the above would be a vague and unfulfilled dream for most women!

Anyway, back to Charles. Even though he hates Valentine’s Day with a vengeance, he made a special effort to cook me dinner tonight. (In fact, dinner had even been his suggestion - woo hoo!) We had a properly home-made curry and rice, followed by yoghurt with fruit and honey in it, and all laid out nicely on the table with flowers and everything. I was really touched by him doing that, especially as he's working so very hard right now. He sooo got lucky afterwards!