I bought a "This Day in History" calendar, which is almost always bad news. Yesterday, instead of recalling a romantic anecdote, the History folks brought up the dual deaths of Theodore Roosevelt's wife and mother. At first, I thought I would switch over to some kind of inspiration calendar, but then I realized that no bad day I had would probably match up to whatever the calendar highlighted. That kind of puts things in perspective: I completely dropped the Valentine's Day ball, but no one died. 

Willie had run to the store on his way home from work and delivered chocolate to all three girls. This is almost impossible to top since there is nothing else we like better. I would have to buy some kind of saw or fishing contraption in order to even break even on the satisfaction level. But I went to the grocery store to at least try to compete. 

The Valentine's display had been replaced by toilet paper. I darted around in aisles and compiled the best that was left: a skunk card, "Toadally kissable" frog balloon, marshmallow heart, and Captain America tattoos. Willie challenged the frog balloon to a fight and, not surprisingly, Willie won before round one was over. The frog ripped and didn't look very kissable anymore. I probably should have just bought the toilet paper. 

Romance is difficult to coax out of hiding at the last minute, especially when the stores only stock enough good stuff for the organized people.