Valentinostalgia

As with many holidays, there is so much more about Valentine's Day that is based in our memories of Valentine's Day Past than in reality.

When we were kids we all made Valentines out of construction paper and paper doilies. We made them for our moms and that made us all happy. And my mom always made us sugar cookies with pink frosting hearts on them in return.

We got a little older, and we started buying Valentines (with sayings like "Bee Mine" on them) for all the kids in our class. Putting them in envelopes with one stick of gum or one candy heart, and then dropping them into every construction-paper-covered "mailbox" in school. And we had school parties where no one danced, but we all ate the pink frosted cookies.

Then high school came around and the pressure mounted. The cheerleaders did things like raising money by selling carnations in various colors signifying different intentions. This always ended up with some people getting mystery flowers ("oh... someone has a crush on you!"), and a whole lot of us not getting any. Luckily, when I would get home, there would be those pink frosted cookies.

As I've gotten older, I've had jobs where we actually got cookies sent in for the various holidays. Sugar cookies with frosting smeared on them in the appropriate holiday color. I'm never one to turn down cookies smeared with buttercream frosting, so I've never complained. But those frosted hearts with the sprinkles were never quite the same.

In the midst of last week, when all that suckage was going on at work, I came home on Tuesday night and decided to take matters into my own hands. (Mom doesn't bake much these days since Dad is supposed to be on a relatively sugar-free diet.) So I mixed together all of the ingredients and made some sugar cookies.

Once they were cool, I whipped up a little easy pink frosting, and - yes - put pink frosting hearts on all of the cookies. And then most of them went into the mail to my sisters and my parents so that we could all share in the nostalgia.

Tomorrow at work there won't be any candy hearts. There won't be any punch or dancing. There won't be any mailboxes decorated in doilies and construction paper. (Honestly, considering my co-workers, I'm not complaining.)

But, when I get home, I'll get to snuggle in with Christopher and the pup, pour myself a glass of milk, and take a bite or two of nostalgia.

I don't know about you, but that sounds like part of a great Valentine's Day.