Valentine's Day is not one of my favorite holidays for a variety of reasons. For starters, I didn't grow up in this politically correct day and age where every adult must bend over backwards to purchase and help prepare 6,000 Valentine's cards to avoid damaging the self- esteem of one single child. So when Valentine's Day rolled around when I was in elementary school, it was every man for himself.

We didn't sign little Scooby Doo cards and pass them out to every kid in the class, making sure the little blonde cutie and the strange smelling pale kid on the back row went home with equal numbers of Valentines. We gave cards to the people we were thinking about and prayed we got cards from the people who were thinking about us - even if there were a few from the smelly kid. Quality didn't count back then. It was all about quantity.

As I grew up, I discovered it was not so important to come home with the most Barbie Valentines. After a brief viewing, those cards ended up in the garbage before dinnertime anyway. As an adult, I've learned all new reasons to wish this holiday away.

During my days as a single man, I tried to pretend Valentine's Day didn't exist. It was just another reminder I was alone. Who needs that? I'd be feeling pretty good about myself and sticking to my New Year's resolutions. There was the hope spring was always just around the corner, and then along comes this holiday to remind me I hadn't even been on a date in months. It was depressing. Single life was going great, then Valentine's Day happens, and suddenly I'm having flashbacks to the third grade when the smelly kid got a bag full of cards, and I went home with one piece of chocolate the teacher gave me.

Of course, having a significant other doesn't make Valentine's Day any less confusing or depressing. When my wife and I had been dating for about four months back in college, she gave me a cross- stitched picture of Clemson's Tillman Hall, which took her about a month to complete. I gave her a card, which she figured out I had picked up at Eckerd's on the way to her house that day. I was a poor college student, which was a bit of an excuse, but that didn't make the moment any less awkward. Thankfully, she married me anyway a few years later.

I've been married over 13 years now, so my wife and I may pick up some take- out to celebrate this most unfortunate of holidays. But I've got two daughters and, apparently, they start talking about Valentine's Day in early January in elementary school these days. If that isn't bad enough, Wal- Mart has eliminated school supplies to make room for eight aisles of Valentine's Day junk. This holiday is unavoidable. Now, if I don't come home February 14 with two winged, pink Teddy bears holding silk hearts, my girls will look at me like I'm the smelly kid with the bag full of Valentines. That's a look worse than the one I got when I brought over the Eckerd's card.

I guess I'll just have to accept the fact this holiday isn't going away anytime soon and be glad I've got people to upset. I'll just join the other poor saps rummaging through the eight aisles of items draped in pink and red late Friday night and hope my wife is happy with some more take- out.