These days, I’m not too sure what to think about Valentine’s Day. When I was in grade school it was quite the big deal. We’d spend ridiculous amounts of time decorating empty Kleenex boxes with construction paper and doily doo-dads. I’d spend hours analyzing the meaning of each Scooby-doo Valentine before deciding who got what. Wouldn’t want to send the wrong message to that 3rd grade boy, now would you? (FYI, Scooby can convey some deep stuff whether you intend it or not.) Then I would spend just as much time pouring over each Valentine I received. If Billy sent me a Smurfette valentine, did that mean he liked me? Ugh, it was all so exhausting for a grade schooler.
