The worst Valentine’s Day ever. . .let me think. It could have been grammar school when I failed to receive a sixth grade boy’s love note. I guess you could say I adored him from afar. He lived about two or more miles down the road. He was two years older and the cutest boy I knew. Blondish brown hair, huge smile and blue eyes.
My sister, six years older and I, used to ride in a tiny wagon with wooden wheels down to visit him. The cart was pulled by our collie mix, Ring. We would all play together as friends, but I held onto that crush until my junior year in high school.
Truly a fourth grade Valentine disappointment.