Sib4 sent me this picture today.
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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