Men: Secret Valentine Wishes From Your Women

The BLUNTMoms authors are busy booking our extra special body waxing appointments to get that precious heart-shaped look we know the boys like. We so enjoy being pretty on Valentine’s day. Incidentally, I am not sure why the wax lady won’t do decorative lip hair designs, but she wouldn’t even consider it. Anyhoooo…

We Mom authors are generally hooked up with dudes. Those who don’t have a current one of their own may be courting a potential one for the weekend. Who cares, we just want all the lads to know that we have needs, and this post is for you!

We realize that sometimes the men in our lives need a little advice on how to make sure they have a happy February 14th with their ladies. As a public service, we are publishing a list of things we would like our men to know. These tidbits are a compilation of important intel from deep inside the lady vault, so listen up:

This is not Mother’s day – do not involve the children unless you think dirty monkey sex with you is something you want them to see. I thought not. Oh ya… and you arrange childcare.
If you make your woman cook for valentine’s day, you are a bad, bad man. Take her to a nice place with good food and get her liquored up. Be prepared to be sober enough to drive – or, bonus points, find a nice hotel with a nice restaurant attached so she can drunkenly molest you in the elevator.
My Hubs Gem This Year: “Why do MEN always have to be the ones to do something for the women? Why can’t you plan something amazing for us instead?!” Has anybody seen my bitch-slap stick? Oh here it is… excuse me.
If you want to impress me please get us a second wife. I need some help around the house in every department.
I get cards and chocolates almost every year, purchased at the last minute from the drug store. I hate them. I’d much rather have an iPad. Just saying, but not out loud of course.
I don’t want cheap shower gel and kitschy bubble bath. I want the good kind, from LUSH. Dude, we’ve been together for a decade and I bathe regularly. Do you see me using ANYTHING that smells like “sea breeze” or “berry kiss”? No, lazy last-minute gift buyer, no.
What I do want? A sleep-in day. Or, two. Every week. It’s called the weekend. Give. Me. One.
Forget breakfast in bed, just take the kids out for the morning.
I don’t want roses or chocolates or an expensive dinner out, I just want you to kiss me goodnight like you mean it.
AA batteries (and a Rabbit – not the furry bunny kind, and not the slippers, either.)
I want to be in one of those village huts over the water, open to the elements, out in the middle of the ocean. I want a Greek god of a man giving me an ass massage with oil while I doze on the table, half-drunk and sleepy cause it’s so frigging hot. I want to be pampered and worshipped like the goddess I am, and there better be some alcohol, no kids, and for the love of Jebus, there needs to be no snow.