Local Man Becomes Unlikely Hero, Remembers Valentines Day!

It’s true, let me set it up for you:
There I was, minding my own business, working hard with not a care in the world. Then Kim tells me she got a little something for Dylan for Valentines Day. Calmly, cool and collected so as not to let on that the day once again snuck up on me, I made my plan to climb out of the lack of planning hole I found myself. Just like that, my easy going day turned into a frenzied panicky state of chaos. On the surface however, I was cool as a cucumber and its this kind of control that shot me to the status of HERO. After solving the problem and pulling it all together, I browsed the local paper for my picture and story, most likely on the front page. I must have just missed the press deadline cause there was nothing. CNN blanked me as well. Having found myself on some sort of media blacklist, I’m forced to pat myself on the back here at Mortontimes.
As it turns out, I wasn’t the only sap that fell behind the Sweetheart Day 8 ball, I had plenty of company, both men and women all scurrying around hoping to find that perfect card. You know the one. The card that the copywriters thoughts and yours align perfectly to give you the exact words that you were thinking only in a nice scripty font instead of your barely legible chicken scratch you call handwriting. Sometimes though, when all those cards are gone and your forced to pick through whats left, you have to re-align your exact words to match some flunky copywriter who got lucky and managed to get his half assed thought printed on a card. Fortunately, this was not the case with me. Clearly the planets aligned to help me through this difficult time and before I knew it, I was on my way with a couple of beauties (cards that is) See, I have to not only find one card and gift, I also have to find one that will be from Dylan. No worries, like any hero, I simply say: “Keep turning the screws, I can take the pressure”, and I get it done. Surely that ‘quick to act’ ability will land me in USA Today, let me check.....Nope! Bastards.
Anyway, morning came and we had a little Valentine day celebration and opened our gifts and Dylan of course tore into his giant chocolate frog before breakfast and started the day off with a sugar buzz that will no doubt come up during the next parent teacher conference. Not to worry though, the squeaky wheel gets the grease as they say and he left the house with a little something for the teacher.
He has a couple special girls he likes in class, but they frown on showing any sign of affection nowadays and everybody has to give everybody else a valentine, including the boys giving them to the boys etc... Whats the point of that? Is this not a holiday where you man up and tell your chick you dig her? Nope, its not, according to my wife, its simply a holiday invented to sell crap and make those with nobody special feel even worse about it. She has a somewhat skewed perspective on this holiday. I on the other hand know exactly what its all about, and because of my insight, instead of calling my valentine a gift, I’ll from here out refer to it as an ‘insurance policy’ (wink, wink) I hope Kim doesn’t read this.
I like that we have a national holiday to boost the economy and I refuse to feel saddened by other peoples inability to find someone special. That falls right in line with my rebelling against the tidal wave of politically correct responses we’re expected to give, but I’ll ask forgiveness just in time for the next big holiday, the celebration of the resurrection of our lord and savior, the Easter Bunny.
Just kiddin’