Her son's elementary school is apparently one of those that hasn't given up on valentine exchanges, so his class was given the assignment of decorating a box to collect said valentines. Rather than hearts and flowers, J opted to decorate his box to look like Stuart the minion -- at least I think it's Stuart, though I suppose it could be Norbert or one of the myriad other one-eyed minions.
Whichever minion this is intended to be, this is my kind of valentine box.* If I was going to be involved in a valentine exchange, I would definitely find the experienced improved by the possession of a minion box to put them in -- particularly one with as much character as J's.
Happily, I'm well past the age of having to deal with bulk valentines -- and thus needing a valentine box -- and the cancer has pretty much taken single valentines off the table as well.** Instead, some friends and I are trading our paper hearts for alcohol. An article on the "best places to spend Valentine's alone" identified a bar in Seattle apparently known for its "overwhelmingly attractive servers." If you can't have a valentine, a cocktail presented by an overwhelmingly attractive server seems a reasonable alternative.
* As I think about it, this may actually help to explain why I'm divorced.
** Frighteningly, a co-worker today explained that at her last job the staff, too, decorated valentine boxes and exchanged valentines. Undoubtedly, "teambuilding" run amok.
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