Remember When...

...it was Valentine's Day time and you had to write out all of those awful Valentines to your classmates?

Remember when you wanted to make sure your best girlfriends got the best ones: the ones with your favorite Disney princess, favorite white kitty cat, favorite superhero? Remember when you tortured yourself over which one to write to the cute boy in class: either the card that--even as a ten-year-old you knew had sexual overtones--you really wanted to send him, or do you send THE CUTEST BOY EVER the uber-generic "Happy Valentine's Day" one, so that he didn't really know you liked him (not that it mattered either way, because, seriously...he's a boy & would never "get it" anyway)? Remember when you HAD to give one to Billy, even though he had buck-teeth and science experiment blemishes and you prayed that he wouldn't get the wrong idea by the most simple obligatory two cent V-day Valentine? You even contemplated not signing it, but your mom was sitting right there and [kindly] reminded you to sign your name.

These are the memories dredged up in the aisle of the local Target, whilst I shopped for my daughter's valentines for her party on Thursday at preschool. They all came rushing back to me today while I remembered back to my own angst over this seemingly harmless little holiday thrust upon prepubescent kids by sadistic elementary teachers...or at least that's how it felt at the time. A day of great anxiety, pretty much wasted on something so insignificant that everything was forgotten by the following morning, when you realize that you nearly pushed yourself to the point of a heart attack for nothing...except for the tiniest bit of anticipation that pounded in your chest when you opened the valentine from the "cute boy." That may have been worth it...