To this day, every time I see a brown paper lunch bag, I get a flashback of elementary school Valentine's Day exchanges. This ritual has seen a few alterations. The commercialized card now far outnumbers the good old doily-and-construction paper variety, and political correctness has infiltrated the classroom. The preschool instructions to Big B were to sign, yet leave unaddressed, eighteen valentines to be objectively given to each child. This is a far cry from the popularity contests I remember. I would anxiously watch from my uncomfortable desk as the classmates whose friendships I coveted approached my decorated bag, hanging from the chalkboard.
Ah, the bag. So simple a receptacle, at once universal and customizable. The perfect size, the perfect earthy backdrop for the pink, red, and white palette. This has remained the constant, bridging the generation gap.
To fill the bags of Big B's friends, we focused on the crafty activities he enjoys. Currently, scissorwork and hole punching are at the top of this list. I found some adorable downloadable valentines and printed them on pink cardstock.
Then Big B got to work, studiously and ceremoniously cutting eighteen hearts out of dark pink and red cardstock (pink for girls, red for boys, I am told).We coupled one heart with one valentine, and Big B punched holes through both layers of cardstock. He's really good at this; I think it's a gratifying use for his upper body strength.
I tied them together with rick-rack, wrote his name on the back, and tucked them all into our own brown paper bag. What a cute little sack full of valentines. I can't wait to see what he brings home in his own decorated bag tomorrow!