I've always thought Valentine's Day was a stupid holiday. It makes couples feel anxious like they have to super-perform love ("oh my darling I adore you with pink candy and pulsating hearts and KY jelly commercials"). And it makes single people feel maudlin. The only winners of Valentine's Day, usually, are kids swapping handmade paper hearts, and even in that case I think a lot of kids get the secret Valentine shaft where the ones slipped in their boxes are less lacy than the ones given to the kid two desks down. So, if you're not a florist, to heck with it.
But after a sweet plain night, where our friend A. brought Chinese and we sat around eating out of take-out boxes and passing back and forth the intermittently kvetchy baby, I got an e-card from my mom. I'd sent her flowers and she sent me an e-card with a talking cat wearing earrings. The cat, who had an English accent, said I was the sweetest thing on earth, and that I was a love bug, and also that my life was full of, radiant with love. And sitting on the couch thinking about my spouse and my baby and my parents and our friends, the great network of people around us, I just thought oh man she's right. She is totally right.
Pink hearts everywhere.