I admit it. I took the easy way out yesterday in letting everyone else be super poetic about “true love.” I’m glad I did, though, because it made me happier than I expected it to. I hope you enjoyed their adorable “text bites” about what amour means to them even half as much as I did. However, with the sad exception of the pizza part, I had great success with the Valentine’s DO This, NOT That.

When my pops-in-law planned his Chicago trip to coincide with Valentine’s Day he offered to take the train to Indiana and visit his brother so that we could celebrate alone. Sweet, but not necessary. Instead, we invited my parents to come up and join the party. Since they had been in Napa for a week and had to pick up Grace Face (tear…), it worked perfectly.

I smeared on my favorite shade of red (Mac, Viva Glam), added red tights to my (recently, always) black ensemble and made reservations at the nearby Gilt Bar. And so, sprinkled among the mostly happy looking couples, the five of us ravaged a really well-rounded menu including: a to-die-for bleu cheese fondue, incredibly flavorful Gunthorpe chicken, melt-in-your-mouth pot roast, freshly perfect persimmon salad and, of course, three different desserts. Oh, and they also offer a chalice of PBR for only $2. I know it’s PBR but it’s also $2.

Jonny and I picked up the check, gladly. We toasted both sets of parents and the incredible example they have always and continue to set for us. My parents got engaged on February 13, 1980 – my dad wanted to do it on Valentine’s Day but he couldn’t wait. They’re still as in love today. They laugh, they cry, they compromise, they drive matching Escalades, they roll their eyes at each other, they disagree, they hug, they love their children in a way that I am anxious to understand, they travel, they enjoy the same things and different things, they watch sports, they go boating and biking, they kiss and – if you want to know what I think true love is – they still stare straight into each other’s eyes.