I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Valentine’s Day and me don’t see eye to eye. Does anyone remember in high school, when those stupid candy grams would get sent to homerooms? It stunk not getting any. And the year I did get them, I felt bad for the people who didn’t. And how about the roses? Really? The office would be full of vases with dozens of roses…from high school guys to their “girlfriends”. Likely that relationship was going to last for more than that week. But, here, “take this dozen of roses it cost me fifty dollars to buy and send you, just so I’ll look good, and you’ll look better”.
I found a paper on the counter the other day where you could send your child lollipops for Valentine’s day for a dollar or two. What about the kids who don’t get any? All because their parent, like me, forgot to send in the dumb paper that overcharged for a dum-dum pop. What about the party? And all those Valentines your child comes home with and you find for the next week under chairs and in cabinet drawers? Right, they don’t do them anymore. Valentines are even optional these days. Really?
Then you have adulthood status: Do I, the girl, get him something? What? Like he’s really going to want a stuffed gorilla holding a dorky sign, saying it loves him. And candy? Is it me, or am I the only girl who has a boyfriend who would rather have a Payday candy bar, a bag of Cowtails, or Andy Cap’s Hot Fries? How special is that?
Don’t get me started on the restaurants. Booked. Every one of them. You have to either eat at four or nine o’clock, just to get a table. And for what? I don’t know…I’m a romantic writer, but this holiday doesn’t impress me. I guess if I were just falling in love, and wondering if the fella was going to buy me roses, it might be different. I’d get the buds, touch each one of them, swoon all over the place, smell the smell right out of them, and read the little card until it was memorized. Now, though? It’s just another day. Isn’t that sad?
Gosh.
