This morning, when I sat down to breakfast with Stroke of Genius, I queried him about Valentine’s Day. I asked if he had any special memories to share with me. SOG’s answer? “All I can ever remember was getting yelled at. Evidently, I’m just not that romantic.”

Can I get a show of hands from those out there who have had a wonderfully romantic Valentine’s Days? That’s what I thought. Me neither.

TV adds promise women jewelry, flowers and sexy underwear. Unfortunately, most males still can’t get the image of a third grade broken heart out of their memories. That’s the year most boys were in love with their teachers and you know how that worked out.

Girls carefully decorated our Valentines bags with pink hearts in hopes of receiving that beautiful pre-printed cardboard Valentine from that “special one.” No Prince Charming ever appeared. I’ve never heard a woman exclaim, “Once I got that special Valentine from him when I was 8, I knew we were soul mates. We’ve been married for 37 years.”

Then there was high school. If you didn’t really like your boyfriend all that much and he blew Valentine’s Day, then you could officially dump him and everyone would understand because you had the perfect out.

While husband searching, we ladies probably got as good as it gets – a box of chocolates, a dozen wilted roses and a diamond chip necklace. When trying to snare a woman into cooking, cleaning and bearing children for the rest of her life, a man has been known to act completely out of character.

But once the marriage is on, all hopes of romance are totally lost. The best I could muster for a romantic Valentine’s dinner for my husband was a heart-shaped meatloaf and pink mashed potatoes. Gee, thanks, Martha Stewart.

I guess the best thing about Valentine’s Day is the stories of a day gone wrong. At least that’s what I remember.

In my first year of college, I did a very dumb thing. I went on a blind date on Valentine’s Day with a man whom a former friend hooked me up with. He sounded okay on the phone, but what to my wondering eyes should appear at my door but a cranberry man from Mars.

I was 19 and he was probably closing in on 30. This vision was dressed in a cranberry colored button down shirt, matching cranberry Sansabelt pants, and cranberry support hose all accented with a white belt, matching white loafers and a cologne that smelled like a full blown candy shop. It would have been a great outfit if you were going as an adult strawberry on Halloween.

But a husband story can top that. After we’d been married a few years, I received a gorgeous flower arrangement that included orchids one Valentine’s Day. The office was agog and crowded around for me to read the card. You know what it said?

“Thanks for your business. North Central Communications.”

I was a laughing stock and immediately called my husband to rip him a new one. You want to know his explanation? He’d totally forgotten about the special day. He was just considering a new florist to send out lovely flower arrangements to new customers and he thought I’d be a good guinea pig.

Needless to say, there were no pink mashed potatoes for him that year.

Please fellas, give your gal a break this year and come up with something a wee bit romantic. Pretend your love is your third grade teacher and everything will be just fine.

Spreading love throughout the world…one kiss at a time.

Mikie Baker
www.mikiebaker.com