Heart Shaped Box
I've never been big on Valentine's Day. Though spying on my nephew at his daycare this morning, and watching him paste little white hearts onto a folded piece or red paper did bring back a few childhood memories of the day.
Memories of cubbies filled with little tiny cards (each child was mandated to give a card to everybody in the class so that nobody was left out), my name scribbled by a classmate onto the envelope. I remember doing the same... saving my favorite card for my childhood crush, a boy named Chris whom I loved dearly from kindergarten probably until graduation, and spelling his name "Crhis", then being upset that I got it wrong. I remember a boy that I didn't have a crush on giving me lifesavers, 8 packs to be exact that came in a little booklet. I was upset that they weren't from the boy of my dreams, but happy just the same to get candy from somebody. I remember making a heart figure with my mother out of construction paper, the arms and legs folded accordion-style out of large strips of paper so when it was hung, it looked like it was dancing. Those were the days when I was young, and probably wore red or pink to school.
As I got older, and more bitter, I would wear black in protest and laugh at the people who were getting giant bouquets delivered to their office, deeming them "cheesy". Thinking those bouquets were half the cost the day before and still just as nice. Perhaps I secretly hoped that somebody would be delivering me flowers that day, because it would have been nice to know somebody spent a ton of money on me just so that other people would be jealous. It never happened.
Now, I'm married, and Valentine's Day has no significance to me at all. We don't make reservations at a restaurant with a special prix fixe menu. We don't exchange gifts. Maybe a card, but no flowers. It's just not part of who we are as a couple. Last year, I tried to do something cute for my hubby. I got him a pedometer and some baby aspirin. For his heart. Because that is what the day is about, right? Hearts. Love. Maybe I was being a bit too literal, but I thought it was a great idea.
Memories of cubbies filled with little tiny cards (each child was mandated to give a card to everybody in the class so that nobody was left out), my name scribbled by a classmate onto the envelope. I remember doing the same... saving my favorite card for my childhood crush, a boy named Chris whom I loved dearly from kindergarten probably until graduation, and spelling his name "Crhis", then being upset that I got it wrong. I remember a boy that I didn't have a crush on giving me lifesavers, 8 packs to be exact that came in a little booklet. I was upset that they weren't from the boy of my dreams, but happy just the same to get candy from somebody. I remember making a heart figure with my mother out of construction paper, the arms and legs folded accordion-style out of large strips of paper so when it was hung, it looked like it was dancing. Those were the days when I was young, and probably wore red or pink to school.
As I got older, and more bitter, I would wear black in protest and laugh at the people who were getting giant bouquets delivered to their office, deeming them "cheesy". Thinking those bouquets were half the cost the day before and still just as nice. Perhaps I secretly hoped that somebody would be delivering me flowers that day, because it would have been nice to know somebody spent a ton of money on me just so that other people would be jealous. It never happened.
Now, I'm married, and Valentine's Day has no significance to me at all. We don't make reservations at a restaurant with a special prix fixe menu. We don't exchange gifts. Maybe a card, but no flowers. It's just not part of who we are as a couple. Last year, I tried to do something cute for my hubby. I got him a pedometer and some baby aspirin. For his heart. Because that is what the day is about, right? Hearts. Love. Maybe I was being a bit too literal, but I thought it was a great idea.
posted by Tracy at 9:25 AM
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