Valentine's Day

A day of love, aye? Do you know the real meaning of Valentine's Day? It is much more than conversation heart candies (I'm partial to the ones made by Necco), and men having to buy a dozen roses lest they enjoy being in the presence of The Ice Queen.

I ran into a dear little boy last night while gorging myself in a very un-lady like fashion, who tickled my humor bone by sharing his Valentine's Day poem with me:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I think you're more fun
Than sniffing glue.

Isn't that simply precious? I loved it. I've never sniffed glue, perhaps I should start. I did used to eat paste. Texture. I liked the texture. Which reminds me, I used to eat Ajax. Sometimes I still get the urge to do so; nutritional deficiency? Psychosis? Hunger? I think it had to do more with the texture and grit. I'm very odd about my textures.

A friend made me cookies a month ago, and the texture was incredible. They could have tasted like cow dung mixed with hay and dirt, but the texture had me eating half a dozen in less time than it takes Americans to spend their Stimulus Checks.

I'm becoming more and more of a texture freak the older I get. At least I haven't reverted to Ajax. But hey, that would make for an easy date, right? "Where would you like to eat tonight Snufflelumpagus?" "Oh, my dearest Tweedletum, let's not go out. Let's just dine here by the firelight with this new can of Ajax. Would you like to peel back the white sticker that forms the purpose of a lid, or shall I?"

I miss watching the Smurfs. I saw the DVD set at Walmart. I think I may just use some of my tax return to go purchase it, grab a can of Ajax, and revisit my childhood.

Have fun with your glue.