This weekend is a perfect storm for couples: Valentine’s Day, Family Day and thus, a long weekend in what feels like an eternity – together – in lockdown.
But there is fun to be had, if you look for it. For example, I predicted two things about this pending long weekend.
First, that my husband forgot that Family Day is Monday, because I’ve not replaced the kitchen refrigerator calendar since December.
Second, he would not handle the news well. Not well at all. You see, while most of us enjoy any excuse to have a day off work, the Carpenter actually develops an involuntary twitch at the thought of forced relaxation. He is what some would call a workaholic. I prefer the term “freak.” Both are accurate.
Add in Valentine’s Day and this may well be the crack in my husband’s foundation. Lockdown love isn’t easy. It’s been a lot of togetherness, am I right?
Good thing the Carpenter and I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. We’re more about spontaneous romantic gestures (“You awake?”) over grand gestures like flowers and gifts. Also, we’re cheap.
Keeping love alive requires a commitment to maintaining the friendship at the core of your relationship. For us, that core centres on humour, sarcasm and laughter.
Thus, I took immense pleasure in breaking the news of the long weekend to the Carpenter at the dinner table at the exact moment he was devouring a mouthful of pasta. Cruel, but impactful.
With the news, his eyes widened, he chewed fast, hands flying up in the air then slamming down on the table. Hard swallow.
“This weekend is Family Day and Valentine’s Day? This is horrible for guys, just horrible,” he exclaimed, in sincere distress. “And we are still in lockdown, yes?”
I nodded my head up and down very slowly, for dramatic effect.
“And we aren’t allowed to go to work on Monday?” Allowed. Like someone is holding him back from working? Freak.
“Don’t you have to go into the office for press deadlines?” There was angst in his voice. He was wishing me away. I mouthed the word no, smiling wickedly.
After a moment of silent reflection, he looked up and I saw that mischievous spark flicker in his eyes. I love this spark. This is how we love: romantic sparring. Game on.
“Do you want a card that says Be My Valentine, Valentine?” he asked, smirking and batting his long eyelashes. Yep, he was back. Did he just wink at me? The nerve. I shot him a look that suggested he not push his luck, but honestly, I know that just stokes his fire.
“Don’t worry,” I said, rolling my fork to gather my pasta gracefully. “I have no expectations for Valentine’s Day, and I have already taken the liberty to order takeout for our supper that evening so I don’t have to cook.”
“Nice,” he exclaimed loudly. “So, I don’t have to do anything.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
Oh, but he does. He gets to pay for the dinner. I ordered extra.