Whose
idea was it to put chocolate candy in a huge heart shaped box? And why exactly does that say I Love
You? The sweet treats inside are the
focus of the gift, right? Women are known for melting in the arms of any man
who brings them chocolate, so why the fancy packaging? Maybe the point really
is the totally un-necessary extravagance of the whole thing. You certainly
can’t reuse the box for anything. There is no nutritional value. It’s always a
challenge to figure out which of the candies contains the dreaded coconut, or
is dominated by a big nut. Maybe the reason we like this showy, sugary gift is
that we know the giver would have much rather spent his money on something
else. The fact that he picked out a great big red box with sinfully sweet candy
in it just for us really means a lot. It’s motivated by pure love. Yes, that
must be it.
Valentine
customs have absolutely no logic to them. When we were kids, we used to save
empty cardboard oatmeal canisters, cover them with red construction paper and
cut a slot in the top. Then, we took them to school, put our name on them, and
waited for our classmates to drop in little cards. The messages on the cards
were as corny as they were cute. A picture of a pencil and a paper that said “I
dot my eyes on you.” A cowboy who exclaimed “You’re the greatest, Podner!” A
hive of buzzing insects spelling “Bee Mine.” Sometimes, there were attempts at
humor. “Roses are red, violets are purple. Sugar is sweet and so’s maple
surple.”
The
fun in those little cards, though was in the giving. At least for the females
in the classroom. We spread out all of the cards and found the one that looked
the most special. The one that really “meant” something. Then, we agonized over
which boy in the class would get that most special message. Would he understand
that he was seriously our pick for favorite valentine? I have a feeling that
the boys probably gave the box of cards and the list of names to their moms and
walked away.
As
we got older, we didn’t buy cards for every kid in our class. We longed for
special attention from one person in particular. If that person had no clue we
were waiting, we were disappointed. So, instead, we planned dances, and got on
the decorating committee. Then, on the big night, we dressed up and arrived to
watch the couples dancing. It was all fun and games until the couples left and
the decorating committee had to double as the clean-up crew. Oh well.
It
has always amazed me that the male of our species never understands how easy it
would be to make his favorite female happy on Valentine’s Day. They quite often
err on the side of “getting it wrong.” All it really takes is remembering. A
cheesy card, a box with a big red bow, a flower or two. It’s really not that
hard. Whatever comes from the heart is sure to please.
After
our life partners are established, the customs become even stranger. We now
feel that only the most special date night will fill the bill. So, everyone
tries to make reservations at the most memorable spot. One that means something
to our relationship. The site of the first date, the spot where he popped the
question. Trouble is, so many folks share that same special place. So, the
lines are long, and the baby-sitter’s tab is huge.
Hubby
and I created a practical solution that involves the magical way to your
partner’s heart- through the stomach. Several years ago, we decided to start
cooking a gourmet meal at home on Valentine’s Day. No waiting at a restaurant,
no big heart-shaped boxes of confectionary mystery. Instead, we scour the
internet for a recipe, shop a couple of days ahead for the perfect ingredients,
and slave away for an hour after arriving home from work. (The years that
Valentine’s day falls on a Saturday are really the best.) At the proper time,
we light a candle and settle in for the adventure of the year. If everything
didn’t turn out as we planned, it is all okay. After all, the effort involved
is the real gift. Oh, but one important step in this tradition must be
observed. A picture is posted on Facebook. Why? To avoid a future argument.
“It’s your turn to cook this year. I did it last year.” Thank goodness for that
timeline feature.
Share
your heart with someone this year. If nothing else, it makes for a great story!
