A Valentine’s Day Fling

Ah, Valentine’s Day is coming.

I remember when I used to anticipate this day of love and romance with visions of flowers and candy in my head. I would hope for a beautifully written sentiment in a card. I would maybe even wear something red.  Because, under my snarky exterior, I’m really a sentimental sap at heart.

Please don’t tell.

Anyway, I feel a little differently about Valentine’s Day now.

Not that I don’t value romance — I totally do. And I am still a secret sap {sshhhh}. It’s just that, as a mom of two young kids and a current vehicle of gestation, my priorities have changed. What I find truly thoughtful has evolved. Or maybe devolved.

Sure, I love flowers. I’ll still be tickled if I see the delivery guy at my front door with something for me.  And, let’s be crystal clear — OF COURSE I’LL TAKE THE CANDY. Especially if it has the handy little map to help me navigate past all the bullshit fillings and straight to the dark chocolate/coconut combo. {Hands off, you guys. You can have the marzipan and cherry.}

And if my husband really wanted to buy me jewelry, I can’t say I’d stop him.

But, the truth is that I really want one thing:  A brief affair. No, not with another man — but with my long-lost loves named Time and Sanity. Like most flings, it would be fleeting and very different from my real life.

I mean, what would you do with the gift of time to yourself? An entire day void of obligations or an agenda?  I think we can all agree that the very first thing is obvious: Have your mind utterly fucking blown by this foreign concept.

After that, I have a few ideas about what I’d do with my time. Here are just a handful of thoughts — in no particular order:

• Sleep.
• Sit somewhere quiet — hell, even in my car — and read back issues of Us Weekly. See? Stars really are just like us after all.
• Complete at least ten consecutive entire thoughts and/or sentences.
• Get sucked into Pinterest, guilt-free, and emerge with 17 new and life-changing party dips.
• Have coffee, lunch and dinner with friends. Or alone. Either way. As long as multiple meals in which I do not play the role of the waitress are involved.
• Set a state record for the longest single spa visit.
• Catch up on my ongoing quest for current family photo books by getting 2011 started.
• Figure out, once and for all, the difference between the 34 settings on my new dryer. I just want it to dry and self-fold, damn it.
• Set the contents of my kitchen junk drawer on fire.
• Make real, measurable progress on my worldwide ban of Taylor Swift.
• Casually stroll as many retail aisles as I please without fear of displays being knocked over. If you don’t think this is indulgent or luxurious, you’ve clearly never had your children be the subject of an intercom announcement for “Urgent clean-up in Aisle 5.”
• Submit recommendations for the Pope’s replacement to the Vatican.
• Sleep more.

All, or even some, of this? You can’t put a price on it. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s about four million coconut-filled candies, give or take.

Sounds like a great fling, right? So much so that I may even wear red for the occasion.

If a ketchup stain on my shirt counts.