Valentine's Day -- You Don't Bother Me As Much As The Other Girls Do

 When D2 was in grade school, probably the last of the days when kids were actually allowed to celebrate Valentine's Day, she brought home a card from a boy named Jake. I think she was in 3rd or 4th grade, and the card, a simple cut out paper heart, became part of our family lore -- it was pinned to a board in our kitchen for years. It read:

Dear D2. You're pretty when you smile. You don't bother me as much as the other girls do. Your friend, Jake.

How perfect is that? Ultimately --what more can any of us truly ask for in a mate other than to be annoyed LESS than might otherwise occur? And today is Valentine's Day -- and I remember Jake's sage words.

In the 38 years since Wifey and I have been together, of course, from time to time, the thought pops into my head that maybe it is time for a change. I KNOW that as I have gotten older and far more crochety, that thought must occur to her.

I mean, has life been a picnic for her? Well indeed it has -- but that's another story...

The point is, I look to friends who have divorced and married anew. Do I envy even a single one of them? Not even close.

Now -- many of the splits had to happen -- issues cropped up that made marriages simply untenable. My personal favorites are when one partner realizes after a comically long time that they're gay. Hey -- like a Jack Nicholson character once said, many times I wish I could be gay -- being around only dudes is far simpler -- especially during football season.

But now that Wifey and I have made it to this stage in life, with an absurdly adorable grandson, and two amazing sons in law -- nah -- I'm pretty happy I stuck it out.

Do Wifey and I annoy each other? Sometimes wildly so. Lately, our Pinecrest roomies have taken to referring to her as Irna Kristofsky, a comically annoying Jewish woman character from "Curb" played by the brilliant Tracy Ullman. Wifey doesn't like it, so I have stopped using the reference.

And me -- with my increasing OCD, and politically incorrect references all the time? Not so easy either, I don't suspect.

But Saturday night, at D2's birthday party, we danced, and Wifey said to me "Do you believe our little baby girl is 30, and may make us grandparents, like her sister did?" And it was a moment of true intimacy -- and I savored it.

We stuck things out and get to sow what we reaped.

So tonight, with or without our Pinecrest roomies, Wifey and I will sit together and wish each other happy Dia de Amor, and once again be thankful we don't bother each other as much as others might have. That's everlasting love.