It’s February 15th – and by now it’s all over – we all know if we got any cards or if (as was usual in my case – see the picture – that’s me as a teenager. Not surprising huh?) we didn’t. I always think that Valentine’s Day is a triumph of hope over experience. None of the boys we fancy ever bother, and the cards we get usually come from our dads. And it still needs to be cards, not just Facebook messages or BBMs. There’s something about getting a real, CARD card, one where we can run our fingers over the pen marks and wonder (and hope) who it was from. And they so rarely come.
But every year we go through it all again, pouring over shop cards, wondering whether getting something from Moonpig marks you out as a stalker, and using our best ninja skills to find out his address. Did you risk delivering by hand and save the price of a stamp? What if they saw you? I do remember one Valentine’s Day eve sneaking up to a house to discover with horror that there was a long, noisy gravel path and the lights on in the sitting room right next to it. Nightmare. But worst of all is the message – what can you actually say to this boy who has been the centre of all your fantasies for weeks/months/years? You don’t want to be slushy or soppy, but you have to say something, unless you cop out with the unimaginative ‘?’. What to write in a Valentine card is one of the hardest writing assignments of the year.
I’d love to know how many boys actually bought and posted a card. I asked my teenage son, and his instant response was that none – not a single one – of his friends had sent (or were admitting to sending) a card. He looked quite offended that I’d even thought to ask. I bet they rather like getting them though!