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Speaking of Valentine’s Day, I have some random thoughts:
Once—I think it was Mrs. Sanders’ 4th grade—we had a substitute teacher the week of Valentine’s Day. We’d all brought in empty Kleenex boxes so that we could decorate our Valentine’s mailboxes, and on the day of decoration, we had the sub.
I covered my box with pink construction paper and the substititute teacher thought that was dumb. She pretty much said so.
“Red is for Valentine’s Day,” she said. “Not pink.”
I didn’t try to come up with a reply, because I thought she was kidding. Pink is the closest color to red. It’s a desaturated version. Pink is a tint of red, vs. maroon or burgandy, which is a shade. Add white=tint. Add black=shade. I wanted pink construction paper to backdrop my Valentine’s box that I added hearts cut with Mrs. Sanders’ pinking shears and paper doilies edging out the opening to. I thought it was fabulous.
She wasn’t kidding though. She really thought that my design was dumb. So dumb that she felt it necessary to tell a 4th grader so. I don’t know why I remember that, but I do.
I remember something else too.
My friend Debbie had a boyfriend named Jeff. He gave her a box of candy conversation hearts for Valentine’s Day and she shared them with me on the bus. They tasted terrible. We figured out— and the next day he confirmed— that he’d sprayed the box of candy (no Cellophane, by the way. It was a long time ago.) with his mother’s perfume. Chanel No. 5, I think. We could taste it.
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