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I only remember the arguments and betrayals, but some of it has been fun
I have to tell you about Valentine’s Day. A card arrived in the post. It was blank with no message at all. It came from a website, so there was no handwriting. No point examining the Post Office stamp with a magnifying glass, or dusting it for prints. Hmmm. How annoying.
I texted the most likely culprit. ‘Did you send me a Valentine’s card? If not, Oops!’
He wrote back. ‘I admit I did send a card. Stupid, I know.’
‘It was lovely,’ I wrote, when in fact I had just posted a photo of it on Twitter with the caption, ‘Send flowers, you cheapskate!’ Lots of people then commented that I have written about how much I hate being sent flowers, given they are usually the wrong sort, and I have to find a vase and a pair of scissors. I was indeed once sent roses with GLITTER on the petals: I still get flashbacks. I then sent him a photo of Mini Puppy. ‘Ah, so they got all their toys at Christmas,’
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