I wrote this piece about 15 years ago, but I think it still resonates on Valentine's Day...
I’ve been told that everybody in America knows the ground rules of
Valentine’s Day. Even though it’s supposedly a holiday for lovers, the
responsibility for a gift is strictly a one-way proposition. The man is
expected to get the woman a gift, and the woman is expected to receive that
gift.
I never bought that concept and I thought my wife didn’t either. She and I
agreed not to get each other anything for Valentine’s Day shortly after we were
married, and I fully intended on keeping my end of the bargain. Every February
14th I headed home from the office without giving it a second thought. On my
way out the door, however, a female colleague would inevitably chastise me.
A typical exchange would go something like this:
“What did you get your wife for Valentine’s Day?”
“She said she didn’t want a gift,” I would say.
“Trust me,” the woman would reply, “She’s only saying that because she
doesn’t want to sound greedy.”
“Really?”
“Listen to me,” she would say, “If you don’t bring home a Valentine’s gift,
you’re a dead man. It’s like you’re saying that you don’t appreciate all she
does for you.”
Even though I was pretty sure I understood my wife better than someone who
didn’t know her at all, I started doubting myself. Who understands a woman
better than another woman, right? Just to hedge my bets I would end up stopping
at the store to pick something up for my wife.
And every year she got mad at me when I handed her the gift.
“I thought we agreed not to buy each other anything?” she would say.
“Did you really mean that?” I would ask.
“Of course I did. I said it, didn’t I?”
The next day when I told the woman in my office about my wife’s reaction,
she explained that my wife was obligated to be mad at me to save face.
“That makes no sense,” I would say.
“Did she give you the traditional gift?” she asked coyly.
“She didn’t get me anything.”
“Not even the (wink) traditional gift?”
“There’s a traditional gift for a man?” I asked.
She winked again.
Oooooh. I get it. I’m slow, but I’m not that slow.
“Those are the ground rules?” I asked.
She nodded. “Everybody knows that.”
I never told my wife about these conversations because I didn’t want to
believe that she was really a totally different person beneath the surface,
pretending to communicate with me using the traditional method (the English
language), while actually integrating a devious subtext I was too dense to
recognize. If that was true, my whole world would have been built on a series
of false assumptions.
I chose to bury my head comfortably in the sand. It was for the best,
really.
But this year, I decided to test the theory. After all, things have changed
completely in our house. I’m the one at home now, and she’s the one driving
home from the office on February 14th. I figured with this new arrangement I
would finally get to the bottom of this mystery.
I did my part. I made a big point of reminding my wife not to get me
anything. I was adamant.
“I mean it. Don’t me get me anything or I’ll be mad.”
“OK,” she said.
I tried to read her eyes. Was she worried? Was she thinking that I was now
employing the traditional devious subtext? I couldn’t tell, but then again,
maybe I had been wrong about everything for twenty years. My instincts were not
to be trusted.
So what did she do?
She didn’t get me anything. I can’t decide if this vindicates me, or if she
just doesn’t appreciate all I do for her.
Post script: This year, after a full year of being in the same house all day and all night every single day, we celebrated Valentine's Day yesterday by not mentioning it.
