but if she says she needs me, she says she needs me....

I saw the card about ten days ago. C. was in the shop with me, browsing for a birthday card for her mother (happy birthday, Di!) and it caught my eye immediately. Mindful of my wife's presence at my side, moving like a ninja, I surreptitiously snaffled the card and sidled off to the checkout, entirely unnoticed by an oblivious C.  I then carried the card around with me for the rest of the morning, cunningly concealed in a bright red Valentine’s Day bag.

I think I got away with it too.

Well, she was polite enough to pretend not to notice, anyway.

I fished the card out of its hiding place yesterday morning, with the intention of getting it all filled in before my wife returned from London.

Hmm.

In the light of recent unfortunate events, my choice was now looking a little bit off-colour:

Oh well, there was nothing I could do about that now.

My inscription was short and to the point:

“Whitney Houston's death is something of an unfortunate coincindence on the card front.
Happy Valentine’s Day!"

Who says romance is dead?  Not in this house....