A Pinch and a Nod

Valentine's Day has always been kind of a rip-off, I think. I was always the girl sending the secret admirer flower to homerooms, never getting them. I hand-made the Valentines for our class card exchange but never received any. Handmade, that is. I got them...the Scooby-Doo ones, the Strawberry Shortcake ones. But not made with paste and doileys, like the ones I slaved over for hours. Of course, this might have just been a project thought up by my mother to keep me out of her hair for a week of afternoons in February. If so, she sure was smart.

In college, I only got cards from my parents. I never got flowers. From anyone. Or grad school...I don't think. I may have gotten roses once or twice...but I cannot swear that they were for Valentine's Day. They may have been for Oops-I-slipped-and-my-penis-fell-into-someone-else Day. That holiday might not make it onto the calendar but it occurs with somewhat surprising frequency. Hard to schedule, that one is.

I can't complain about them all. I've had some sweet, thoughtful Valentine's Days over the years. But I think, on the whole, the day is overrated. I'd rather get flowers on a random Tuesday when I'm feeling low than on the federally mandated Day One Must Show Their Love. And I do. So that's nice.

This year, I'll be taking a chinchilla to a Veteran's Home to cheer up old men and women who served their country. I may get my ass pinched. And I'm okay with that.