The Valentine's Man

Sometimes you don't know how weird you are until someone else mentions it. That said, let me tell you about our family's history with the Valentine's Man...

When my brother and I were little we were visited each February 14th by "The Valentine's Man". At some point during the evening there would be a knock, my brother and I would make a dash to the door and find 2 boxes of candy - but no person in sight.

We were told that it was The Valentine's Man (there should be some cheesy muzak playing each time I write "The Valentine's Man"). I would LOVE to know who knocked on our door! I kept my eye glued to both my parents starting somewhere around evening on February 13th each year. And neither of them was ever near the door when that knock came.

When time was drawing nigh for my own kids to be introduced to our valentine tradition (round about late toddler stage) I started asking my mother who (cue the music!!) The Valentine's Man was. She couldn't remember. At least 10 years of establishing and maintaining this yearly subterfuge and she can't remember who the heck played the role of door knocker.

For me, the biggest problem has always been: how did they get away so fast? I've ruled my paternal grandmother out. She lived across the street, but she was round. I can't see her knocking and then disappearing that quickly. Besides, even though she could be funny (she taught me cool camp songs with words like "fart" in them - and some song I wish I knew the rest of the words to, because all I remember is: "...the baby pooped in the noodle soup and I ne'er went there no more.") she wasn't all that child-centric, and I can't imagine her thinking the whole knock-and-run thing worth the effort. So who?

My mother is getting up there in years (I have grandchildren myself now) so I keep asking her about The Valentine's Man. I figure one day soon she might go into her second childhood and the information will bubble up spontaneously, so I keep the pump primed. But so far she still has no idea who The Valentine Man was.

Not knowing how my parents worked the valentine trickery did not deter me. We had The Valentine Man (where is that damn music?) make visits when my (now very much adult) daughters were little. He visited when my now-teen son was little, and he visits now to drop off goodies for my granddaughter.

My son tells me that the story he got was the guy was naked. I think perimenopause must've been kicking in then - you know, when you're seeing (or wishing for) naked guys all over the place. The story I remember telling my girls, and that we currently tell my granddaughter is that it's a guy in tights. Cupid, the pink tights, the arrow. Bringing candy for sweet children. It's cold in February, of course he's in a hurry!

And the issue of who knocks. It changes every year. There were times when all the kids were still at home (and began watching their father and I closely starting early evening February 13th) when we'd have my brother knock and run. He's lean and fast.

This year, with my granddaughter being only 4, I had my son plant the goods in the front entryway awhile before the official knock.

When it seemed about time I diverted Little Princess' attention by pointing to something in another room, and - while her eyes were averted -  I reached behind me and rapped hard on the door. Her head spun around - her eyes got wide. We raced for the door, and sure enough - there were a couple packages and no one in sight. I don't think she'll be that easy to fool next year.

After examining her goodies, she kept grilling me: "You didn't knock?" (she's a bright one) "For real?". I kept lying. I have no idea why we continue this tradition, I only hope that years from now - if she asks - I'll remember how we did it.

btw: "our" hybrid Valentine's Man (at least in my mind) is some mix of the two Cupid's pictured (plus he wears pink tights).

Comments

[Jean Browman--Cheerful Monk]

Thanks for the laugh. :)