So yesterday, M’s coworker asked him what we’re doing for Valentine’s Day.

M said, “Nothing.”

We live paycheck to paycheck and M gets paid on the 15th and 30th every month, so our Valentine’s Days usually look like this:
Wake up around 8:30am. Smooch and snuggle in bed for a few minutes.
I get up and make breakfast for us and the cats.
M gets up when breakfast is ready and starts working, eating while he works.
I clean.
I read.
I tweet.
I write.
I make lunch and M eats while he works.
I hang out with the cats.
I talk to M when he’s got a free moment.
I play video games.
One of us makes dinner. If we’re lucky, M gets to stop working, but that’s rare. Often, he eats dinner while he works.
We usually have sex.
We watch TV or a movie or play video/board/card games.
We go to bed. Read more…

So, like every other annoyingly cliché couple who thinks they’re way more adorable than they are, M and I play the “I love you more” game. You know…”I love you.” “Yeah, well, I love you more.” “Nope.” “Yep.”

It has recently been brought to my attention, by way of a coffee mug I didn’t know he ordered, that M is a great big cheating cheater.

See?!

We had to order some new sheets, and some light timers, and he got me an apron because I’ve been wanting one forever so maybe I can not ruin my clothes when I’m cooking. But I knew about all those things. I was expecting those things.

Then I opened the box, and there was this mug! And I cried because I cry about everything sweet these days. And then I told him he’s a great big cheater. And a liar. Because clearly, I love him more.