When I was in elementary school, everyone would give Valentine’s Day cards to everyone else in the class. In second grade, there was a girl in my class that I really liked, and my father convinced me that I should give her an extra special card. The card was big. It was pink and purple, and had hearts and glitter on it.
I wish I hadn’t let him talk me into it because I was so embarrassed to give it to her. I’m sure I blushed. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything about it. After that, I swore I’d never do it again, and I just went back to giving out regular Valentine’s Day cards like everyone else.
Valentine’s Day Card
I’d rather fight a tiger covered head-to-toe in gravy.
I’d rather spend a decade scrubbing toilets in the navy.
I’d rather hug a porcupine. I’d rather wrestle eels.
I’d rather run a marathon with splinters in my heels.
I’d rather sleep on mattresses of razor blades and nails.
I’d rather try to skinny dip with starving killer whales.
I’d rather be tormented by a gang of angry punks.
I’d rather share a bedroom with a family of skunks.
I’d rather dine on Brussels sprouts and spinach for a year.
I’d rather ride a camel race with blisters on my rear.
I’d rather eat a half a ton of liverwurst and lard
than say how much I like you in this Valentine’s Day card.— Kenn Nesbitt
