Years ago my sister made a card for my father for Valentine’s day. It read, simply,
He burst into laughter. He passed the card to my mom. She joined in the chuckles. Both Carrie and I begged to be let in on the joke. They refused. “Take our word for it,” my father said “it’s funny.” He then pointed his big index finger at me and said “Listen up, you, do NOT go around retelling this.” Good thinking on his part. Just because I didn’t understand what it meant didn’t mean I wouldn’t run around town wishing people a happy V.D. After all, I once retold a joke I didn’t understand to my father in a crowded movie theater that gave the 75 year old sitting behind my parents a cardiac arrest. Something about tulips and an organ. Yes. I really did that.
I promised my father I wouldn’t retell it. I did NOT promise him I wouldn’t post it on a blog when I was 37.
Happy V.D., readers, happy V.D. indeed.