Was there something about yesterday I was supposed to remember? Is the date February 14 supposed to mean something to me?
Oh, that's right. It was a little day called Valentine's Day.
I don't know if other parents have found this to be true, but once you have kids, Valentine's Day isn't about romance anymore. It is about those stinking little Valentine's.
And I don't know what has happened since I was a kid and saved the special "Be My Valentine" card for the cutest boy in class, but now it is unheard of to distribute Valentine's cards without candy attached.
We bought Valentines, (Hello Kitty for the girls, Batman for the boys, and Koala Brothers for the preschoolers) with lollipops already attached. Except around here they call them suckers. Which is just fucking wrong.
But my kids received more Valentine's Day booty from their friends than I've got from my husband in the last ten year's combined. It's ridiculous. Gift bags full of candy. Whole Nestle Crunch bars. (Do you think he'll notice if it is missing?) Heart-shaped sampler boxes. Even toys and art supplies.
Parents must have spent some serious do-re-mi to get these things for an entire class of children. As my husband asked, "What are they trying to prove?"
Add to it the cookies and treats from their classroom parties and, well...
Little Tuna Boy left chocolate-colored barf on my stairs.
In anticipation of all this sugar overload, I got the kids small toys (a train for him and a My Littlest Pet Shop pet for her) and my husband bought them cards and stickers. And my daughter must have repeated to me, "Thank you, Mom. I love it so much!" at least fifty times yesterday.
I got a hand-written "I love you" on the bottom of a form from school from my daughter. My husband was flying yesterday, but on Monday night he gave me chocolate-covered strawberries and a sweet card.
Thanks to duane's suggestion, I got my husband hockey tickets for Sunday night. We're going to take him to dinner and celebrate his recent award.
I leave you with a little sample of some Valentine's my daughter brought home. Don't these just make you want to--oh I don't know--leave chocolate-colored barf on my stairs?
Now that's putting the Saint back in Saint Valentine's Day.