At first, he lagged. But as his groggy state began to wear you could see the light in his eyes wake with a glow. The glow of a man who knew he was about to commit Valentine's Day greatness.
He instructed me to stay in the bedroom until his command. I did so respectfully, while pressing my ear to the bedroom door, listening for possible sounds hinting at the mischief on the other side, of course.
With his go ahead, I walked into the living room. There at our dining table sat my husband. Candles lit and beside him a Valentine's Day display customized just for me. There was beautiful red roses spilling from my favorite bud vases, three boxes of chocolates (he knows me well), a card, a wonderful whimsical bunting purchased at one of my favorite local shops, and then the greatest gift of all...
Amidst it all, a typed, 8x10, framed list of all the things he loves about me. I cried, but it was ok because the fact that "anything romantic/sappy can make you cry at the drop of a hat" made the list.
I gave my husband his Valentine's present from me... a book.
I think he won Valentine's Day. Or I did. I'm not quite certain how that tallying system would work.
Gosh, I do love him an awful lot.