“Nine out of ten people like chocolate. The tenth person always lies.” —Unknown

In case you didn’t collide with card, candy, and teddy bear displays, I’ll inform you: Valentine’s Day was Monday. Think in terms of a major apology gift. Half-price chocolates save money, but will they impress your lady?

Perhaps I can suggest tips for future reference.

At all costs, avoid the “I-love-you-every-day-why-should-I-give-you-a-gift-now?” defense. Like the adage, “It doesn’t matter who wins or loses,” it contains elements of truth. But you’ll lose, big time. Unless you think sleeping on the couch — or driveway — is fun.

Fortunately, my husband figured this out. He’s come a long way since our first Valentine’s Day, when he gave me a history book. No, I’m not making that up.

After 47 years, though, he’s a master gift giver. Hubby should offer lessons on finding cards that make a wife’s heart sing. However, he faced a common February quandary: I adore chocolate, but I’m dieting. Should he give me only a card?

Some men bypass the obvious solution: flowers. Instead, they buy their ladies lingerie.

Seriously? When women are hating mirrors, are suffering from starvation, and are pushed around by skinny exercise gurus wearing Spandex?

Admittedly, it’s a cruel dilemma — only one of thousands women inflict on men.

Guys should blame marketing geniuses of the late 1800s and early 1900s who married chocolate and Valentine’s Day.

During the 1860s, beverage manufacturer Richard Cadbury discovered the answer to his own dilemma: how to use cocoa butter that remained after processing chocolate drinks. Before his descendants manufactured the eggs associated with his name, Cadbury marketed valentine candies in beautiful boxes he designed himself.

Milton Hershey reinforced the Valentine’s Day-chocolate connection when he began selling tear-dropped chocolate “kisses” named for smoochy sounds chocolate made during processing.

For a time, chocolate equaled milk chocolate. When I, a second grader, received my first Valentine’s Day chocolates from towheaded Paul Henry, I didn’t nitpick about milk chocolate, dark chocolate, bittersweet, or semisweet. Unlike modern connoisseurs, I didn’t debate whether white or ruby chocolate are true chocolate.

Question free candy? Stupid.

Speaking of stupidity, some gourmets have “diversified” chocolate. They’ve invented a chocolate éclair hot dog. Chocolate and black pepper goat cheese truffles. Even chocolate calamari soup.

I told my love, “While I crave both seafood and chocolate, please don’t get creative on me this Valentine’s Day, okay?”

“Since when have I been creative?”

True.

“By the way,” Hubby continued, “why should I give you chocolates, when you’ve only given me cards?”

Touché.

However, he, too, has been avoiding seconds at dinner. Toughening up with weights.

Should I give him the ultimate symbol of my love and concern for his health: broccoli dipped in dark chocolate?

Maybe just a card. …

Tune in February 14, 2023, to see if these old lovers learned anything during their chocolate chat.

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What does Valentine’s Day look like at your house?