On Valentine’s Day ’06, I had been dating my now ex-boyfriend, hereafter known as "Ex", for two years and four months.  Although in his mind, I suppose we technically weren’t dating that whole time.  I liked Ex from the first time I met him at a friend’s party, but it wasn’t until April ’05 that he finally wanted a ‘more serious relationship’ (which to him meant he finally wanted to kiss me – yes, I’d managed to find a man in his late 30’s who was even more inexperienced than I was...and since I’ve only had sex with one person, that’s saying something!).

But last February, I was so happy that, since we were definitely officially dating, we would finally celebrate Valentine’s Day.  We were temporarily living in different cities two hours away from each other, but I baked him some delicious (if I do say so myself) brownies and wrote him a cute card I’d painstakingly selected, being careful to choose one that did not say ‘like’ or ‘love’ – not easy to find, by the way.  (The fact that I was afraid I’d freak out my BOYFRIEND OF TWO YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS by using ‘like’ or ‘love’ in a card should’ve clued me in that this relationship was going nowhere, but live and learn.)  I lovingly wrapped up the brownies with my heartfelt card and mailed them to him.

On Valentine’s Day, he e-mailed me his thanks.  We had plans to meet in his city that weekend, and in his e-mail he wrote, “I’ll give you your gift this weekend.  Saving on postage, y’know.”

I would’ve stared at that sentence longer…if I hadn’t been blinded with rage!!  So on Valentine’s Day itself, I got absolutely nada.  But like the clichéd fool in love, I still clutched at hope (“Maybe he’s giving me something so special, so amazingly wonderful, he wants to see my face when I open it!”).

We met, as planned, for dinner that Saturday.  Over dessert, he gave me my gift, an eight-inch by eight-inch box.  It looked promising.

“Nice wrapping,” I said admiringly.

“Oh, the store did that,” he said.

“Is there a card?” I asked, not wanting to be greedy.

Ex looked uncomfortable.  “No.”

I blinked.  “No card?” I said softly. Now, I am such a card person, I must've worked for Hallmark in a previous life.  To me, the card is almost more significant than the gift.  Especially on Valentine's Day!

“I was going to buy one last weekend, but there was that snowstorm,” he said lamely, “and by the time I had the chance to pick one up, Valentine’s Day was over.”

Okay.  No card.  Fine.  I’m sure this gift is gonna be SO AMAZINGLY FANTASTIC, I won’t even care.

I took a deep breath, tore off the shiny red paper, opened the box, and found…a music box.

And not just any kind of music box.

A CLOWN music box.

As in, you open the drawer, and a garish clown dances to obnoxious circus music.  You close the drawer, and he stops dancing.

I looked at Ex, then looked back at my gift, dumbfounded.  A CLOWN MUSIC BOX?  I opened the drawer again (cue the annoying music), thinking surely there had to be more – a piece of jewelry, or a gift card, or a sweet piece of chocolate inside the drawer, perhaps?

But no.  Open the (empty) drawer.  Cue circus music.  The freakish clown dances frantically.  Close the drawer.  Clown and circus music stop.

“Do you like it?” Ex asked hopefully.

Do I like it?

Oh, man….

What else could I do but laugh??