Let me set the stage for you. It’s Thursday, February 13th which means tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. After working his off-duty gig, my husband picked me up from my internship at a middle school. We had already discussed our expectations around this holiday especially since I have such strong negative feelings about Hallmark Holidays. I’m not a big fan of corporations dictating appropriate relational behaviors. I did not want chocolates or flowers or even a card on this socially determined day of love. I told my spouse many years ago that I really did not want anything. In fact, I would have a paradoxical reaction if indeed he gave in to social norms. I assured him that this was not a trick and that if he followed my wishes I would not then be mad as a chicken come February 15th. We agreed that if either wanted to write a love note or make something that would be nice but wasn’t necessary. This was our mutual understanding when my sexy officer Uber arrived for me.
Once we were on the road home, I shared with him how the end of my day had gone. My office is in the school library which is a square with four sets of doors on each side. There were signs up outside the doors stating that tomorrow, Valentine’s Day the library would be closed. This wasn’t because of testing or a book fair or anything related to academics I was told. After the final bell rung, the janitor, two teachers and the librarian were busy setting up tables inside the library in front of the main doors. It looked like a blockade and I soon learned that this was in fact the case. Each year the school sent home letters advising the students and their parents not to bring gifts and such to school on Valentine’s Day. After all, this was middle school and we all remember what that type of relational drama brought on any day, let alone one designed to make us and everyone around us focus on whether or not we were in a relationship and with whom. To avoid some of the drama, the school banned the giving of tokens during the school day. The library which would staff the tables would be where students not adhering to the rules would be sent to leave their love trinkets. At the end of the day, they were free to come grab them. Of course, this required inventorying the items for liability. This alone amazed me because I couldn’t wrap my mind around parents being upset and holding the school liable if a contraband gift disappeared. After all, many of these parents were the ones who dropped off their kiddo and the giant teddy bear and balloons at the school curb. They also had received the letter stating the rules. In essence, the parents were accomplices.
A Hundred Pieces of Love Contraband
Not being able to really wrap my mind around the need to shut down the library and stage an inventory site, I asked our librarian about it. How many gifts could there be? Then she showed me the picture of the year before. Seven tables were covered with every size and shape of gift bag. Hearts exploding all over the place. Giant boxes of candy, balloons and stuffed animals of every type and color. There was even what looked like a four-foot stuffed dragon. “I Love You,” “Be Mine” and “Happy Valentine’s Day” emblazoned the balloons. It was a red and white nightmare. I truly gapped at the picture and the chaos that kind of show of affection would bring to a crowd of adolescent boys and girls. To make things even more fun, this year Valentine’s Day was on a Friday so right after school there was a “Friendship Dance.” So, the students would go pick up their contraband gifts and go straight to the gym where the crying can begin. This thought brought me instantly back to my own hideous middle school dances and all the self-esteem crushing emotions that came with them. I can’t say that I was unhappy that I did not work at the school on Fridays and would only have to hear about the drama the following week. I shared all of this with my husband as we drove home.
Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s morning I went to my graduate classes and my husband went to work. I joked with him reminding him not to give in to the Valentine’s Industrial Complex. He assured me he would not. As I rode the light rail and scrolled through Facebook, a meme jumped out at me. It was a picture of four officers in uniform standing in front of a display of red and white greeting cards, obviously the Valentine’s Day section. The caption said, “WHEN A GOOD SGT. REMINDS THE SHIFT WHAT DAY IT IS…” Ugh, really?
That night my husband was very careful to be anti-Valentine’s Day with me. I say careful because he’s actually the romantic in our relationship and if allowed I would be drowning in Hershey kisses, twelve-foot boxes of assorted chocolates, roses and sixteen stuffed animals from bears to cats to most-likely that four-foot dragon. But he let me lead this dance. We each wrote each other a nice letter reminding the other of shared memories. We had a quiet dinner and curled up to watch a movie. We watched, “How to Train your Dragon,” which he had never seen and is one of my favorites ever. So, I guess he did get to give me that dragon after all. It was a sweet scene. A handsome veteran metro patrol officer curled up on the couch with his Valentine watching a cartoon. The perfect Hallmark Holiday, if you ask me.
