Valentine Pink

I’m done with pink. Finished with the little hearts that trail every word, and cover every boarder. This Sunday’s paper had more reds and pinks this year than any other year I can remember. Don’t get me wrong I have no real issues with Valentines Day. I have no trouble with this marketed holiday anymore than I have trouble with any other holiday. Christmas, Easter, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, I do just fine with them thank you.

But I am sick to death of this pink.

This year for some reason it’s that Barbie-pink color that’s everywhere. Yahoo has covered its home page with it. The sports section in this morning’s paper even had pink advertising. It’s like The Cat In The Hat has comeback more out of control than ever. Pink ring in the tub? Childs play. Pink snow? Amateur’s work. This year I’ll do that and even turn all Lingerie pink. All clothes, candy, storefronts and busses. I tell you one thing, I know of no quicker way to get smacked upside the head then by trying to dress up Sweetie in some cotton candy colored taffeta. It’d be a WWF smack-down Itellyouwhat.

Best bet is to find some chocolate. Godiva comes in little gold boxes and Sweetie likes those just fine, though I’ve found you can never be too careful. Last year I took a bite of one and the inside was some sort of pink-cream cherries jubilee sauce. The soft insides poring out of that chocolate shell like it was calling out doomsday. Foretelling a future of dark red seas, chartreuse skies, and sand the color of blood.

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