CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- My husband and I were heading toward the checkout counter at Rite Aid, which required maneuvering through aisles lined with Valentine's cards, candies and gifts, when Geoff began muttering.
I'm accustomed to Geoff's mutterings. He frequently has this sort of low-volume running monologue going when he's in a jovial mood, which is pretty much all the time. It's like having my own play-by-play announcer of everyday events.
"And yes. It looks like the teen in the Aeropostale jersey is setting up ... Is she setting up? Yes, she is. Slipped that Hershey bar in Mom's basket like a whisper. Mom never saw it coming. Has no idea it's there."
Accustomed as I am to such mutterings, there are times I don't, you know, absorb all he's saying. In this case, he'd been talking for a while and I'd only registered "one-size-fits-all" and something about bugs.
We were getting in the car when he said, "Am I right or am I right?"
I could've taken the easy way out and agreed he was right, but the bug part had me intrigued.
"Right about what?"
"That if I bought you flowers or a box of candy for Valentine's Day, it wouldn't make you happy."
"Yes, you're right," I said.
"And you're stating the obvious," Geoff said. "It's all this Valentine nonsense. Candy. Flowers. Jewelry. What says I love you better than giving that special someone the exact same thing as everyone else?"
"I don't know," I said. "I mean, if your wife loves daisies and you get her daisies instead of roses, that's sweet."
"Daisies make a man look cheap. You said so yourself."
"Those were from a neighbor's yard."
He smiled sheepishly. Shrugged.