I am the loathsome sap who loves Valentine’s Day.
I buy heart-shaped sprinkles; I bring Tweety Bird valentines to the office; I wear pink. Most importantly, I bake caramel Boyfriend Brownies .
My purchase of cupid-printed cupcake liners, assorted truffles, and shiny greeting cards fuels a Hallmark holiday that probably does more harm than good for the average woman’s self-esteem, right along with her date’s wallet. I simply cannot help myself. To those familiar with my mental age , insatiable desire to prepare theme meals , or acute chocolate dependency , my weakness for Valentine’s Day comes as no surprise.