I don't know if I have yet written a Valentines Day scene.
So here it is. The shortbread story--because, I baked shortbread for Mate this Valentines day and the thing is, Mate and I have a history with shortbread:
Shit My Dad Says: "Valentine's day is bullshit. Our DNA demands we fuck each other, so if you need a holiday to talk your wife into screwing
you, it's over."
So that's it-- Valentines day-- but I do think there is something to be added here. All of my children were early for one holiday and conceived around another. Example? Big T is two weeks early for Christmas--which means he was conceived around Spring Break. Chicken was a week early for mine and Mate's birthdays--which means she was conceived around Christmas. Squish was early for Easter, which means she was conceived around our anniversary. There you go. And Zoomboy? Well, Zoomoboy was early for Thanksgiving. His birthday's on November 15th. You do the math.
By the way-- I'm writing a story to this song. It's heartrendingly beautiful: