Sorry. This is weird for both of us. Here we are, staring at each other, and neither of us knows what to say.

To be fair, I know what to say, but I’m a card so I’m limited to saying what my creator has scribbled all over me. And, in this case, that would be… sigh. Here we go:

  • C (maybe?)
  • Round thing
  • Squiggly line
  • Penis (not much doubt about this one)
  • Heart
  • Two pigeons trying to murder each other (this one is open to interpretation)

Of course, if I were allowed to go off-script, this is what I would say:


I get it. I look like trash. In fact, saying I look like trash is kind of an insult to trash. If you popped open the lid to your kitchen trash can, you would easily find five or ten things that look better than I do. A rotting banana peel, stray toenail clippings, the piece of cheese from 2014 that you finally exhumed from the fridge? All more attractive than I am.

I’m a half-shredded piece of pink paper with some illegible preschool hieroglyphics, and three or four what I sincerely hope are chocolate stains. Happy Valentine’s Day!

You didn’t hear that from me, though. What you heard was:

  • G (maybe?)
  • Round thing
  • Squiggly line
  • Penis (definitely)
  • Heart
  • Two pigeons trying to murder each other (they might be cats)

You might think this is harder for you than it is for me, but you would be wrong. Sure, your child is staring at you expectantly with those giant, puppy dog eyes, waiting for you to exclaim how wonderful I am, but I’m the one who has to careen through life looking like some heart-shaped perversion.

Here’s how you handle the kid situation: Lie. Lie. Lie.

Tell him how beautiful I am and how you’ve never seen anything quite so perfect. Tell him if I was the only thing you ever got for Valentine’s Day, you’d be the happiest person in the universe. And tell him you admire his courage for being such a bold and original artist.

You can do this! I believe in you!

See, I can be an inspirational card, too. I may not look like much, but I’m versatile. Just the type of card you’d be wise to keep around if you catch my drift.

My drift is that I do not under any circumstances want to go into that trash can next to the banana peel, toenail clippings, and seven-hundred-year-old cheese.

What were you thinking? Clean out your refrigerator for Cupid’s sake! And why were you clipping your toenails in the kitchen? Has parenting destroyed you so comprehensively that you’ve completely given up?

That last question is rhetorical. This next question is not.

I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. That beautiful brain of yours is churning, trying to figure out how best to deep-six me without the “artist” finding out.

Save yourself the trouble. He’s going to find out.

Don’t you remember that time you threw away a two-week-old lollipop stick? You thought it would be fine because, really, who cares about an old lollipop stick? Again, rhetorical question. We both know who cares and that person just so happens to be my creator.

Anyway, as I was saying…

  • P (now I see it)
  • Round thing
  • Squiggly line
  • Penis (oh, this is a picture of you, isn’t it?)
  • Heart
  • Two pigeons trying to murder each other (they might be kangaroos)

Wait, why is it so dark? Where did you go? And what is that smell, it almost smells like rotting chee… oh. Oh well, I will see you in a few hours when you come crawling back at 2 a.m., willing to do anything to end the plaintive wailing.

And boy will the joke ever be on you then because I’m going to look and smell even worse than I do now. It is seriously rank down here. I hope for your sake (and mine) he doesn’t make you lick me. Ha-ha. Good luck sleeping now.

Happy Valentine’s Day, sucker.