I think I got a real Valentine
It was a bit of a hurried morning, but I felt compelled to wear my Smooches tie, you know, the one with all the smooches on it. It seemed appropriate, because I'm not anti-Valentine in any way. I hope that's not the impression I gave. I like love, love love even. I'd tied the smooches tie on and suddenly that didn't seem enough either. Forget casual Friday, this tie would look great with my used car salesman sportcoat. Sportcoat on and I'm out the door.

I hit the end of my driveway when I remember that today isn't just a casual Friday, today is "Clean-up Friday". We'll spend the day undoing the dirt that we've spent so long creating. Should I turn back and ratchet down the outfit a few notches? I don't think so. If anybody asks, I'll just say, "I think I clean up quite nicely, thanks."

I get to work and in about the time it takes a bull rider to become a champion, I get "It's clean up day. Why are you so dressed up?"

As promised (I don't tire of my own jokes easily) "I think I clean up quite nicely, thanks."
I get some laughs, but what does this have to do with the Valentine?

The Valentine. There's cleaning, there's working, and then there's sticking my hand in my sportcoat pocket. I feel a piece of paper. I don't remember the last time I had my sportcoat on. What could this be?

I pull it out and unfold it. In Memory of Marian Inez Schmidt it says. Grandma. She always remembered to write- birthdays, postcards, Valentine's.

Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Grandma.