I'm just a lump o' love

I believe the world has reached a critical point when it comes to gift giving occasions. There are just too many.

You see, after her birthday, Christmas, Anniversary, Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day, I’m totally tapped - not to mention, fed up with the whole process. Really, what bullshit gift giving excuse will those advertising bastards on Madison Avenue dream up next?

National Gift Giving Day?

Hey, why not? It’s straight to the point and self-explanatory.

Let’s face it, it’s tough enough finding new gift ideas so soon after Christmas. Valentines Day has only piled on the stress and now, thanks to those pricks at Hallmark Cards (and those aforementioned Madison Avenue bastards), men are now required to add a special romantic flair to our Valentine gifts or we’re freakin’ toast.

On Valentine’s Day, men are under tremendous pressure with this gift of love. Seriously, will she hate it? Will she love it? Will she be thrilled? If she throws it at you, will it hurt much?

Granted, a good gift on February 14th and you’re clear right through to the play-offs. True. One thoughtful, well-placed gift here will almost make up for the fact you were born a man.

Each year, statistically speaking, 1 billion Valentines are sent, making Valentine’s Day the second largest card giving day after Christmas. And women are responsible for 85% of all Valentine cards. Also, as a side note, on Valentine’s Day, condom manufacturer Durex claims its sales rise(?) approximately 25% - and more do-it-yourself home pregnancy kits are sold in March than in any other month.

Years ago, in my more romantic days, I took Valentine’s Day quite seriously. Back then, I was working at an advertising studio in Toronto and so, I used to write and illustrate my own cards to send to my wife. My favourite theme was usually “Tim the love God” - which was basically a cartoon caricature of me adorned in gold chains, designer clothes, sun glasses, a chest toupee and all the other things that make women go crazy with desire.

Of course today, I’m just my wife’s pathetic, potato-like lump o’ love that lies listless and lethargically inert - taking up valuable couch space whilst consuming my weight in Cheesits on a nightly basis. Not a lot of romance there, huh?

At this stage in the game, I figure I can love her from afar and watch the game at the same time. I’m a guy here. Haven’t I paid my dues?

For those of you still love struck, I guess you’re wondering what to get the love of your life for Valentines?

My kids had it easy. They had out those little cut-out cards at school and, for their mom, they’d make her some crafty paper heart-shaped card with glue splishing out all over the place. Of course, she loved it.

“Isn’t that cute.” She’d titter with delight. “My kids made these especially for me with their own little hands.”

Of course, I was the one responsible for a more substantial Valentine presentation - and it damn well better make her friggin’ titter with delight or I’m in trouble. I needed a gift that would keep that naked little freaktoid Cupid at bay for another year.

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