This past year, the first of Piggly Wiggly's life, has held many joys and tears and challenges but most of all, it has performed a miracle: It has taken a heart that was two sizes too small and made it burst with adoration. The child has positively transformed me. I hardly recognize myself (although that stunning creature in the mirror does look vaguely familiar).
Because whereas up until now I had always viewed Valentine's Day as a wretched, steaming, bilious pile of hooey — I've never really been the same since Johnny Depp rejected me, although I did manage to put an "ugly" pox on him in retribution — this year I find myself buying sappy "Be Mine" cards and little red onesies covered with hearts and wondering if maybe her mom might let her eat some of these Lindt Valentine chocolates filled with hazelnut creme? If not, no worries, I'll just eat them myself. Matter of fact, I'm halfway through them already. She's probably going to say "No" anyway ... *glances at empty box, shrieks* The hell? How did that happen? EDITOR!!!!!
EDITOR'S NOTE You bellowed, madame?
MY NOTE Get this empty box out of my sight before I club you senseless with it! And then buy another one!
EDITOR'S NOTE Another one? Are you sure that's a good idea?
MY NOTE *clubs editor senseless, discovers it didn't take much clubbing* There. I feel better now. Oh look! *plucks chockie out of moron editor's receding hairline* There was one left in the box after all!
And in case there are still a few of you who think Valentine's Day is romantic, have a look at this. I'm not making this stuff up.