VALENTINE'S DAY AT SCHOOL

(This is dedicated to my grown son, Fred, whom I did not kill.)


Last Thursday night I had to take my son Fred to the store to buy carnations. At school, the kids order carnations for their friends for Valentine's Day. I had lent him the money two days in a row - and still no carnations. Driving home, I said, "We'll have to find a box to put the flowers in so they won't get broken at school tomorrow."

"Box!" he cried. "I just remembered! I have to make a valentine box for the party tomorrow!"

"I'm not turning back for construction paper, "I said, thinking of the cookies I still had to cut out and bake. Fred's bedtime was an hour away. I sent him off to do his homework. When I was taking the cookies out of the oven, I heard my husband's frustrated voice: "Your mother knows how to do this creative stuff. Maybe she can figure out how to make a truck out of a box." Fred wanted a semi for a valentine box. I postponed cleaning up the kitchen.

With plumber's tape and scissors, Fred and I assembled a semi that was three feet long and a foot high and covered it with typing paper and tissue paper. It looked pretty good. I said, "Now you have the valentine box ready, so everyone will have something to put their valentine in."

Fred said, "Everyone's bringing a box. It's a contest."

Fred went to the kitchen and saw the as yet un-iced cookies and said, "I'm supposed to bring cupcakes."

I said, "Tough turkey."

Next morning I showed Fred the seventeen valentine shaped cookies - for sixteen students and the teacher. Fred said, "What about Miss Z?"

"Who's Miss Z?" Apparently, Fred had two teachers now. Someone would go without a cookie. I had a feeling it wouldn't be Fred.

Fred said, "I have to take my skateboard to school today. Can you drive me?"

Sure. I had to get the semi there, anyway. Into the car we packed two skateboards (don't ask), a semi, a box of flowers, sixteen valentines, seventeen cookies, a bag of candy, and, of course, school books. I helped carry the stuff in, and as I left, he ran out calling, "Mom! Can you bring me a pop? I forgot we were supposed to bring our own pops for the party." But I didn't hear him.

I hope someone shared a pop with him at that party.