Romance isn't dead...

...though it may well be in its death throes...

OK money-grabbing commercialism aside,

hands up if you have anything planned this Sunday of the romantic persuasion?

Hubby and I have been married 15 years this year,

together 20 years.

I do remember those heady days of wild passion and heart fluttering moments.

But they seem a long time ago.

Something in the past 20 years

(something probably involving a gazillion nappies, a huge sleep deficit,

and a morbid fear that any romantic interlude could produce another offspring)

has waned.

Yes, there is comfort in the familiarity of our relationship.

He loves me warts and all

as I do him.

I know that and am confident in that.

But ask me to find the time to plan a surprise candelit dinner

or the enthusiasm to find some totally appropriate, manly, romantic gift

or the time, enthusiasm or energy to...well, you know,...do that,

and I find it all to be a bit of a challenge.

Between Christmas and 1st April,

hubby and I swap cards for Christmas, both our birthdays, Valentine's Day and our wedding anniversary.

There are only so many variations on the theme of

"geeze, hon, I love you to bits,

always have,

always will,

but wont it be super nice when the kids are old enough to feed and dress themselves and leave us to ourselves"

So Sunday will bring an early morning bike ride for hubby,

and I'll leave a card on his pillow
(and hopefully there will be one on mine if he has listened to the "It's Valentine's Day on Sunday, hon, hint, hint"

One single bloody card isn't too much to ask for is it?)

Mind you, we have swapped roles.

Hubby now does indeed take the time and inclination to try for more quality time for the two of us

while I am more disinclined to not worry about that stuff until the kids leave home.

Hmmmm, that could still be 30 years away and we may end up trying to remember how to be romantic while hooning down the sidewalk on our little motorised scooters,

me with my blue rinse,

him with his dicky hip.

20 years ago we swapped red roses and saliva (oh, yes, sucking face and all that)

Now we trade breakfast duty and a sleep in.

I used to be a hopeless romantic.

Now I am just hopeless.

But it's something that I should be working on every day,

 not just when Cupid has his one day of the year.