I wore a pink sweatshirt this morning.
I'm sure you're wondering what is so earth shattering about that.
Well, I hate Valentine's Day. Seriously- worst holiday ever. And it's not because I'm single, or bitter, or anything like that. Even when I've had a date on Valentine's Day, I've hated it. Emily did too. We both would wear black in protest. Emily tried to paint her fingernails black one year, but mom drew the line at that.
Everywhere you go is a sea of red and pink, and stupid singing animals. Singing stuffed animals at Valentine's ranks right up there with Elvis's "Blue Christmas".
To me, a hideous stuffed ape singing "Wild Thing" just doesn't say "I love you."
I had to go to Wal-Mart last night to pick up a gift for my secret sister. I forced myself to walk down The Aisle. Talk about sensory overload. I don't even think red and pink really even go together. As I was trying to find the least obnoxious card, suddenly I heard a stuffed animal go off. Then another. And another. And another one after that. I peeked around the corner and there were three teenaged girls setting off all the toys at once. Then dancing and laughing. And I suddenly missed Emily so very much. She was a button pusher. Any toy that talked, walked, sang, danced, farted, or had any kind of button- Emily pushed it. I wouldn't go to a Toy's R Us with her unless it was absolutely avoidable. And as I watched those girls, laughing and having a grand old time-- I could see Emily and her friends doing something like that.
On a holiday that's devoted to celebrating love, I'm trying so hard to remember that Love isn't supposed to die....
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