My Bloody Valentine

This would be a long blog about J-Fed and the Valentine’s Day debacle. But it won’t be. Do you know why? Because J-Fed doesn’t recognize Valentine’s Day as an official holiday. No, in fact, he constantly reminds me that the only holiday in February is February 18, the day we pay tribute to the late Dale Earnhardt.

Groundhog’s Day? President’s Day? Valentine’s Day? They don’t exist in the world according to J-Fed. So today is just another day in the life of J-Fed and Kiki. While other women wake up to lavish gifts of Victoria’s Secret lingerie, Godiva chocolates and beautiful red roses, my morning starts off with “Can I have $20?”

And so I hand him the $20 and off he goes to replenish his supply of Frappaccinos and Newports. Happy Valentine’s Kiki and many more. I would feel sad, but instead I’d rather think of the Valentine’s day gifts I’ve given J-Fed as a tribute to our lost love.

This morning, I woke up very early before anybody else in the house. I took a nice hot shower just for me. Not thinking, I shaved my legs with the razor that J-Fed uses on that baby face of his, a major no no. He has very sensitive skin.

As I ran J-Fed’s razor over my legs and under my arms, I watched each of the rough hairs slip in one by one and thought of the pain he’d experience when he went to shave. I felt bad, but I needed to shave and I’d been so busy doing things for him I forgot to pick up razors for myself. I pictured little wads of bloody toilet paper all over that pretty face of his. Oops.

Once I finished in the shower, I stared in the mirror for a longtime and pondered what else I could give myself this Valentine’s Day. I was so distracted that I knocked his toothbrush into the trash can next to the toilet. It fell in amongst the used Q-tips, empty Frappacinno bottle and a couple of tissues I’d used to wipe away the baby’s spit up. I silently apologized. I would have rinsed off the toothbrush, but the baby was crying and I only had a moment it to slip it back into the toothbrush holder.

It was going to be a good day I told myself. I had a lot on my plate but because it was Valentine’s Day, I decided to give myself a break and let a few things go. I was supposed to pay J-Fed’s car insurance that was due today, but hell, it could wait another day. This was my day! Really, what’s one day without insurance. For his sake, he hopefully would drive very carefully until I got the inspiration to pay it. If he was lucky, it might be this week.

He would definitely need it by Sunday when he planned on going go-cart racing. As I was taking out the trash, I thought of his trip to the track when I tripped over his helmet sitting in the middle of the garage floor and almost broke my neck. That would have been very bad. If I were injured, who would cook his dinner? Clumsy Kiki, I told myself. I picked up the helmet and placed it in his trailer. But I’m so careless; I accidentally dropped a poopy diaper in there and closed the door.

Man, it’s going to be like 80 degrees today and who knows what those temperatures will be like the rest of the week. Damn, by Sunday, it’ll probably smell like a decomposing body in there. Sigh. If only I weren’t trying to do so many things, this might have been avoided.

When I finally got a chance to sit down, all of the mistakes I’d made this morning hit me like of ton of bricks. J-Fed always points out that I’m always in a rush and that’s why things slip through the cracks. You know, he’s absolutely right. I thought about going back and replacing the razor, detoxing his toothbrush, paying his car insurance and removing the crappy diaper from his trailer, but then I remembered today was Valentine’s Day. This day was about me.

So I sat down on the couch, ordered some sushi and decided to forget about everything else until tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow I’d rectify my mistakes… but I doubted it.