MEN!!!!!!

So then guys how was your Valentines Day celebrations? Mine was what can only be described as epic....

Having the swinging brick of a heart as I am often told and feel that St Valentines Day should be renamed Clintons Commercial Fleecing Of Your Wallet Day I am not one for the old romance, chocolates, flowers and general crappy fluffy teddy bear gifts. I would much rather he buy a pint, 20 cigs and watch the footy....

However my boyfriend who thought it wise to pull his finger out of his arse and do something slightly romantic for Valentines day as oppose to just being a generally nice and helpful person for the other 364 days of the year by at least putting the loo seat down, washing a few dishes, washing his own clothes and just generally wiping his own arse instead of expecting me to do it I would have been much more impressed. I must admit that I do blame the fact he is an only child and has lived with his mother and grandmother for the best part of 30 years so will therefore be a lazy spoilt brat. Why am I with such a Mummys boy I hear you ask??? Well did you just note I said ONLY child. Yup there is a five bedroom house in the inheritance to be had there ....

So whilst most people are ringing 5 weeks in advance to book a table in a restaurant for ridiculously overpriced food (those tables just set for two people in rows upon rows and practically sitting on the lap of the two strangers either side of your table as they have been placed so close as to get optimum capacity and fleece everyone for money accordingly). Nope my boyfriend had other plans altogether he said the dreaded words which most girls would probably love to hear...ÂI am going to cook for you on Saturday night Â. Now once I had picked myself up off the floor and awaiting a member of the paramedic service to wrap me up in a huge sheet of turkey foil for my shock the words I uttered through my quivering lips what are you thinking of actually making? left my feeble mouth. After the usual lame jokes about beans on toast or if I am lucky I may get cheese spread on toast he says he is going to make me fish (incidentally my favourite food.) My first instinct was to think of right I am getting sushi then coz there is fuck all chance of him learning how to switch the cooker on.. His familiarity with ovens only stretches as far as microwave ovens.

So off we trot into town to purchase said items to await my fateful poisoning. Into the fishmongers he goes an out he comes looking very smug with himself and holding a carrier bag which must have been containing Moby Dick....if you have ever wondered where Willy went when he got freed...I have the answer! I then asked him what he was serving the fish with. You would think I had asked him what the meaning of life was as he looked at me confused as if to think that I may actually want something other than a plate full of Shamu, his eventual response to this mash?Â This was not a joke he was going to serve me with mash. So feeling rather sorry for himself and knowing my boyfriend as I do I am aware of his ability to cook food that comes in containers with full timings and temperatures listed on the packet. So off I led him to Marks & Spencer for a point in the right direction. Kindly telling him that mash was not a suitable accompaniment and maybe new potatoes would be wiser...(well it was more like mash, fucking mash Â are you having a laugh?). He then finds himself some nice oven bake new potatoes already prepared all he needs to do is cook it.

Off to the next shop we go whilst I purchased a dozen red roses and a card. Now hang on dont go thinking I have gone soft or anything they were bought on behalf of my father to my mother as they have always have been along with her birthday and Christmas cards. I am single handed responsible for ensuring that they made it to their ruby wedding anniversary last year. Without my thoughtful buying and stealth delivery of these without my mothers knowledge for all these years a divorce would have been inevitable. Lets just hope nothing happens to me and my mother eventually realises that it was I who had been doing it all these years and she discovered what a truly useless shit my father is when it comes to all things romantic. Hang on maybe I take after him???

I then finally conceded to allowing him to buy me a Valentines gilt. He asked what I wanted and all I wanted was a hand blender I had seen for Â£4.18....result I went to the shop to buy it only for him to tell me he didnt have enough change on him or his cash card and therefore I ended up buying it myself.

Whilst in this shop it was only right that I purchased copious amounts of alcohol and in hindsight I should have stocked up on Gaviscon. This alcohol was to later become my saving grace.

So once at home the charade continues. I am sworn to silence that I must not either comment or enter the kitchen. Now this is all good and well but to my horror I witnessed him putting a blatantly non oven proof plastic container into the oven just in time for me to make it clear that the contents required placing on a cooking tray. Oven switched on (or so he thought) I take my place at the table. I am starting the first of the two bottles of wine I drank by the time he had realised that nothing was cooking as he had the oven set to grill and not oven. Therefore not cooking fuck all of the potatoes other than giving them a blackened top for the best part of their 45 minutes on 220C cooking time. He has also in this time managed to grill the mushroom starter. Which in fairness was very nice although again having messed up the grill/oven times I received mine 15 minutes prior to his own and didnt end up eating at the table together for the first course which was not exactly placed in front of me more like dumped.

By the time the main course was looking close to be even done the sweat was pouring off his forehead (and most likely onto the plate) in his sheer stress. There were knives all over the floor which he would not pick up for some stupid superstitious reason (please note these are very expensive Swiss chefs knives to my annoyance).

Then it arrives to the table, yup I think it took an Ice Road Trucker to deliver this bad boy, I am sure I seen one of Pinocchios wooden legs pooping out at the bottom of the plate.

So you are no expecting me to say I was amazed I got him so wrong it tasted fabulous....wrong it tasted like shit. I was also hammered by this point having drank four bottles of wine and it was approaching 11pm after him starting to cook at 7pm. He then admitted he even got the fishmonger to not only tell him how to cook Shamu but he wrote it down for him too. I think this was a small price to pay for the fishmongers time seen as I dont even want to think about how much that whale cost.

So you may think me an ungrateful bitch and that the poor guy has just tried really hard and I am being really mean, I am not I think he summed it up perfectly when he said how about next year we just get a pizza and a pint?Â Now this people.... is the exact reason I love him and put up with deep rooted laziness for the other 364 days of the year. Who says romance is dead?

So how was your Valentines? lol

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