Right, before I start to sound like an advertisement for relationship counselling, here's a tale which hopefully puts it all in perspective.
It comes to you courtesy of the wonders of modern technology which have recently allowed me to connect with a bunch of old football and schoolmates I haven't seen in the best part of 35 years.
As you do (these days) there we all were the other night on one of those 10-people-on-the-computer-screen-at-once chat things and discussion drifted to an old mate, sadly no longer with us - we'll call him "Rob" – and the trials and tribulations of his love life.
He was a bloke's bloke. Liked a beer and a good yarn as much as he liked a good steak after an honest day's toil. I'm sure you know the type.
Anyway. Rob was sailing his way through life, happy as, until he met "his" lady. Then his happiness quadrupled.
It has to be said that she appeared pretty smitten too but it was definitely a case of opposites attracting.
Eventually, Valentine's Day appeared just around the corner. I distinctly remember a very uncomfortable Rob asking The Boys what to do in terms of a gift. He'd never done anything like that before.
Luckily, we were all experts in relationships with years of research and published works supporting our findings behind us (ahem) and Rob got a wide range of responses.
But we all sat quietly when Bazza spoke. He had managed to buy a new Holden Commodore when he was 21 and organised the crates for the end-of-year bus trip from the bottle store so obviously he knew what he was talking about.
'Well, what is she interested in?," Bazza asked, as we all leaned forward waiting for an answer.
"She says she wants to get into cycling," replied Rob. "I thought I might buy her a bike."
There was a lot of spluttering and general laughter at the suggestion. At that point in time a flash new bike in our town was $237.
Considering a beer was about 50 cents for a seven-ounce glass it seemed like an extraordinary expression of fondness to us.
Bazza spoke again.
"Nice thought, mate," he said. "But it's really the thought you put into it that counts. You never buy her anything at any other time, do you?."
"Never," said Rob, almost proudly.
"Well, why not get her a card and take her a muffin or a little cake home instead? It will say heaps."
We all nodded intently. I'm sure there were a few of us thinking that seemed so simple it couldn't work. And I'm certain most of us were thinking it would be a lot cheaper than a $237 10-speed bike too.
Anyway, Rob seized on the idea and bought his beloved a muffin. She was rapt. We presume this was because he'd done something, anything.
It would be fair to say Rob had a smile on his face for a fair while after that.
Turns out Rob bought into the little gift thing 100 per cent after that and was a regular at the bakery on his way home. A little muffin here. A nice cream bun there. That sort of thing.
Love blossomed for Rob along the way and it wasn't long before Christmas was on the horizon and he started talking about buying an engagement ring.
This time Rob consulted with his lady and relayed her decision to us down at the pub one night.
She was keen, he said. Even talked about having a proper engagement party where we'd all be invited and the girls could all get dressed up in their finery. Do it proper.
The only thing was they might have to delay it six months or so.
Apparently the pair of them had eaten so many muffins and cream buns over the previous year they wanted to get in shape first.
Rob was going to join a gym and she was planning to get into cycling.
So for Christmas he was going to buy her a 10-speed.
