This morning, as I walk through the grocery store, I pass display after display of flower arrangements. It’s Valentine’s Day and Albertson’s is set to make a killing on the man, woman, and child who feels the tug to give their Valentine a special something. Or maybe it’s isn’t a “special” something but, rather, just something. I been hearing men and women groaning about the obligatory gift giving all week long. It’s pretty sad that it’s come to this. I feel the same way about this holiday as I do about Christmas; if you aren’t giving from the heart, why give at all?
Behind me in line, a young man rolls up with his basket of 3 large arrangements. I glance over in my not-so-subtle waddaya-got-there way. All 3 vases are exactly the same: a dozen red roses with a sprinkling of baby’s breath. The woman in front of me whispers, “Looks like he’s been busy.” I smile, thinking I don’t want to know. Anyway, things aren’t always as they seem.