Tonight, as I prepared to pull a bowl of molten-hot chili from the microwave, I almost couldn’t fit my chubby little paw into an oven mitt. A freaking oven mitt, you guys. Oven mitts, one would think, should be one-size-fits-all, but sadly, it turns out that they’re judgy little assholes. This is a tough time of year. I know that I should do better in the healthy eating and exercise departments, but it’s so cold outside. I would much rather crawl into a Snuggie and hibernate than think about getting myself into shape. I figure I’ll worry about that in May, when swimsuit season looms before me like a taunting and terrifying gym teacher.
And that, folks, is just one very good reason that Valentine’s Day, a day devoted to all things romantic and sexy, should not happen in February, arguably the least sexy month of them all.
If my oven mitt debacle isn’t enough evidence on its own, don’t worry. I’ve got more. I give you the following five reasons that Valentine’s Day should officially be moved to some lovelier month, like, oh I don’t know, June.
1. The four food groups of February are beer, cheese, bread, and bread. February is a month for eating like Hobbits, and you know what’s not sexy? Hobbits. June, on the other hand, is a month when instead of whole loaves of bread and buckets of cheese soup, we eat things like fish tacos for dinner. And if fish tacos don’t just scream SEX, then I don’t know what does.
2. Let me tell you a little secret. I was recently out of razor blades for almost a month. When I finally got around to ordering new ones, I took to the shower for days. It was exhausting. In June, however, I generally keep everything fresh as a daisy and slick as a whistle. Because shorts. And swimsuits. Which no one wants or needs in February.
3. Valentine’s Day is a flower-centric holiday. Like it or not, ladies all over the world receive bunches of begonias and truckloads of tulips. Red roses, the symbol of true love, are the old stand-by, and florists probably curse the thorny things by the time Valentine’s Day is over. Guess what flowers are actually in season in June? Red freaking roses. Also all the flowers that are not at all in season in the middle of darkest winter. So it would, in fact, be better for the environment if the flowery day of love were moved to June.
4. February = flu season. Is there anything less sexy than phlegm? I didn’t think so.
5. And finally, it’s warm in June. After a romantic fish taco dinner, you can stroll, hand-in-hand with your lover, down some adorably cobblestoned street. You can lick artisanal gelato from each other’s fingers while a warm summer breeze playfully lifts your skirt. Which you’re wearing with confidence because it’s June and you have plenty of razor blades on hand. Damn that’s romantic. You can’t do that in February. February is the worst.
So what do you say? Shall we just go ahead and move Valentine’s Day out of February’s cold, dead hands and into the warm embrace of June? That will at least give me a few months to work on fitting into my sexiest oven mitts.