A Valentine Memory

Circa 5th grade.

I have always liked to make cool things. Far-too-elaborate, take-way-too-much-time, made-of-the-junk-that-I-hoarded-in-my-room, awesome-just-for-the-sake-of-awesome things.

This Valentine's Day we were all supposed to make Valentine's boxes. You know, to receive and store the Valentines that our classmates were going to dole out. I decided to make a TV. I remember it clearly. It was a box, painted black. I cut out a hole for the screen and installed a backdrop. I made a little dude and a little lady out of cardboard and stuck them in there diorama-style. In my head, they were part of a soap opera. Because I thought that was funny.

On top of the TV, I made a set of wire rabbit ears sticking out of an aluminum-foil-covered half-dome of styrofoam (it helps when your father is a sculptor and has bits of wire and foam around the house). There was also a cardboard remote control glued on top, a crumpled up Kleenex (because whoever was watching the soap opera would be weepy, duh), and a styrofoam cup with a fake lipstick mark around the rim (because whoever gets weepy for soap operas would wear too much make-up. This was my line of thinking).

There was a small slit on top for inserting Valentines, and a door on the back for getting them out again. But my FAVORITE part was the plug. I hand-Sharpied a piece of white string for the cord, made a little black cardboard plug, and gave it two aluminum foil prongs. I was so proud of that. And the absurdity that the television was supposed to be on - even though it wasn't plugged in - did not escape my notice.

Brought my TV Valentine's box to school a few days before the holiday itself, as did the rest of the class. Caleb F. had made a boombox for his. And it was awesome.

I was jealous. But I had a plug, and his didn't.

Until the next day.

Yes, that jerk had gone home, made a plug just like mine, brought it to school, and taped it to his boombox.

This is just one of many stories in which my elementary school self is woefully wronged.