I didn't marry a romantic

This may turn into a vent here, so if you're the lovey dovey type, or married to one, you may want to pass this one by.

We are not a romantic couple, and when we attempt romance, it feels kind of weird. We're not a flower bringing, candle lighting type of couple. We love each other, but we don't love each other with poems and wine.

Today is Valentine's Day.

Typically, I like Valentine's Day ... I don't need flowers, I don't need a fancy dinner out, but I'd like a card, at least. Something. I don't care that you tell me you love me on a daily basis, but I'd like a card.

I tried telling myself that it didn't matter. But it does. To me, anyway.

So, Valentine's Day is on a Sunday. The Husband is home all day today. What a great combination.

Why does this make me want to cry instead?

I think what else gets me is that the kids see this, and what kind of example is this for them? So, after I get done here, I'm off to make them Valentine's. I did get them some (pathetically?) small candy treats, which I debated doing, since I don't want to consumerize the holiday. I bought them anyway.

Screw what The Husband thinks. This matters.