The vomit-inducing avalanche of red and pink hearts, novelty chocolates and fluffy handcuffs bombarding my senses every time I leave the house or switch on the TV can only mean one thing…the January sales are far behind us and it’s time to crack on with the next Capitalist date in the diary – Valentine’s Day.
Now, I’ve always been a bit of a bah humbug when it comes to Hallmark occasions whipped up pretty much solely to entice people to spend more money – Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Halloween, Christmas….well actually I love Christmas, but everything else is bollocks.
This is my second Valentine’s Day being single, after 13 years on the trot of having a guaranteed “Valentine” on hand. My husband and I didn’t exactly go all-out to celebrate (why did we need one special day to declare our love for one another, when we could
sit on the sofa in silence on our laptops be lovey-dovey all year round?) but even cynical-feminist me rather enjoyed receiving a witty-yet-cute card and feeling all smug-married.
Last year was pretty depressing, I must admit. I can’t remember what exactly I did on February 14th last year, but I’m fairly sure it involved wine and food and tv and ABSOLUTELY NO SOCIAL MEDIA. This year, I’m in a better place and actually I really couldn’t give a shit that it’s Valentine’s Day. I won’t be wasting any of my hard-earned cash on tacky cards or over-priced meals out. I will be more than happy to sit at home in my pyjamas, watching car-crash documentaries (e.g. The Boy Whose Legs and Arms and Arse Fell Off) and reveling in my independence.
But you know, if you fancy sending cards, chocolates or flowers in my direction…I could probably give them a home.
To celebrate V-Day, I have for you an exclusive triptych of doodles:
- Alpha Mummy: Smug Married
- Beta Mummy Version A: The Not-So-Smug Married
- Beta Mummy Version B: The Cat Lady.
(Delete as appropriate).