Today, I went to Neighboring City to take The Teenager shopping for her birthday present (she turns twenty on the 23rd; don't even get me started). Hugh is on his way home from officiating at a regional tournament and the Man-Cub didn't want to go, so, it was just me and the girl.
The fact that today is Valentines Day was made apparent by the number of roses for sale in strange places throughout the mall, including Target and a shoe store, but, The Teenager and I were on a mission that didn't include flowers or chocolates; we were shopping for the elusive Perfect Summer Sandal. The Teenager and her friends are going to Hawaii for Spring Break and sandals were her choice for her birthday.
I did grab a heart-shaped pizza for dinner, lest you think me completely unromantic.
I also participated in our office Valentines exchange last week, despite the fact that I cannot eat any of the candy that I received from my co-workers (Hello, Lent), and, I did pick up gifts for Hugh and the kids, but, honestly, Valentines Day is not the same holiday that it was when I was a kid.
Back then, conversation hearts, carnations, and Valentines hand-made from construction paper and lace doilies, were all it took to make a girl feel special. Yesterday, I helped the Man-Cub purchase a stuffed animal, candy, and balloons for his sweetheart, because, when I suggested conversation hearts and carnations, he looked at me like it might be time to sign the papers at the nut-house.
I had to search the internet for vintage cards, just to make myself feel better. I found a few doozies that made me wonder if the artist's kids rushed to sign that particular paperwork when they got a look at them.
Two-out-of-three cards featuring phallic themes; and we think this generation is messed up.