Enough of that Valentine’s Day stuff

Better Half threatened me in recent days.

He had looked at the month of February, keenly aware that “the day” was nearing.

Translated, that’s Valentine’s Day, which is today just in case you’re not a keeper of the calendar.

“I’m not getting you anything so don’t get me anything,” he half cautioned, half scolded in the most convincing grouchy man voice he could muster.

Better Half refers to the days leading up to Feb. 14 as “Angst Week,” a time he dreads because it’s a mandate to be cute, clever and creative all for the sake of peace, love and harmony.

That’s been tradition in past years anyway, considering my “gifts.”

He’s given me shovels because he “digs” me.

A broom because I “swept” him off his feet.

An electric pencil sharpener to make the “point” that I was his true love.

A coffee pot that was “grounds” for marital bliss.

Candy bars attached to each other in the shape of a heart because he’s “sweet” on me.

A dictionary to prove that there weren’t enough words to describe his love for me.

And let’s not forget the year of the potato.

That was when a fresh-out-of-ideas Better Half – a blub, blub, drowning man here, mind you – actually found an honest-to-God, heart-shaped potato when he reached in the sack, innocently figuring to make some baked potatoes for dinner, not expecting in his wildest dreams that he would find a life preserver such as this thrown by none other than Cupid the man himself.

His trusty pen knife in hand, Better Half carved our initials in the heart-shaped potato that he placed on a red heart-shaped dish with a note attached to it: “This ‘Spud’s’ For You.”

Then there was the year he fell for me – literally – on the ice on his way to buy me a present.

He ended up in the emergency room and returned home empty-handed, save for the doctor’s discharge instructions.

Sometimes I think I should get him a T-shirt that reads “I Survived Angst Week.”

Now comes Valentine’s Day 2016.

Now comes the call for us to reach a new plateau in our relationship.

Enough of that baloney, has been Better Half’s mantra this February.

No more “punny” presents.

What can I say?

Times change. Inspiration wanes. I get it.

I told Better Half he was free to make the decision he felt best.

And to have a happy life and stay in touch.