Conversations

It used to be that my kids and I would work on their Valentine’s boxes together. We’d get out the red construction paper and plan our design. We’d use stencils to write their names. And sometimes we’d paint shapes with glue and scatter glitter over them to make the whole thing shimmer.

This year when I asked the kids if I could help them make their boxes, one said, “The Mother Helper is going to wrap them for us.” Who? Don’t I qualify as my child’s Mother Helper? This felt like the day I got a polite note from a teacher explaining that all treats needed to be store bought and individually packaged. This after I had brought in REAL cupcakes with REAL frosting for my son’s birthday, made in my own kitchen. And now, my youngest, my last hope for bonding moments through construction paper crafts, was not going to need my help. So I tried the next kid.

“Do you need help with your Valentine’s box?” I asked him. “I’ve been saving a red shoe box since August for the occasion.” This was not a lie. When Paul came home from school clothes shopping with shoes packaged in a red box, I tucked the box high on a corner shelf and waited for February. 

Paul frowned. “I don’t want to use the red shoe box,” he said. “I’ll just cut a hole in the top of this one.” He pulled out a grey box that came with his brother’s new church shoes, size tens. Granted, his brother’s box was larger than his red one, but still. Grey is so not a Valentine’s color. 

I was horrified. Just the week before I had found some red doilies among my decorations and thought we could incorporate that into the lid somehow. And of course, being a glitter addict, I thought we might use our vintage stencils to trace his name in glue, which we would outline in silver glitter, then fill in with blue sparkles. But it was not to be. Sensing my uncontrollable urge to take over, Paul got to work. He rummaged through the cupboard and found some blue paper. Then, while I was in the bathroom, he got out the Elmer’s glue, swirled a few lines of it on the sides of the box, and slapped the paper on top. By the time I got back to the kitchen, he was sawing a big rectangle in the box lid with my best paring knife, which also happens to be my only paring knife. What could I do? I admitted defeat and calmly trimmed the edges for him--with scissors, not an Xacto knife like I wanted to.

When I was finished, I tried one more time. “Do you at least want to use the stencils to do your name?” I asked.

“Nah,” he said. “I’ll just write it.” He grabbed a pencil, scrawled “Paul” in the corner, and then ran outside to play.

My boys aren’t the only things that have changed this Valentine’s. While shooting pictures of candy conversation hearts, I noticed that some of the sayings now include “tweet me” and “text me.” And when I ate some, they tasted and even felt different than last year. Curious, I went to the Necco (which stands for New England Confectionary Company) website. Apparently, Necco revamped everything for 2010. Not only did the company ditch many of the old sayings and come up with new ones, they changed the recipe too. “The new Sweethearts have been re-formulated to be softer and more fun to eat,” they say on their website. As a person who ate quite a few conversation hearts during and after a photo shoot with them, I can tell you that the new version stinks. They do not taste like strawberries or apples or lemons, as the package would have you believe. They taste like solid Sweet n’Low—with the same funny flavor and the same bitter aftertaste. And they don’t make nearly the same satisfying crunch when you bite down on them. Instead, it’s like you’re eating a slightly soggy Smartie, only Smarties taste better. I want my old conversation hearts back, the kind that left dust on your fingers and a chalky taste in your mouth.

But I guess change is inevitable, whether you’re talking about your kids or your candy. However, there’s something you can do about it. On the Necco website, there’s a spot where you can suggest sayings for next year’s batch of conversation hearts. I’m going to propose that they stick with the original recipe and add a few new sayings that are truly seductive like: “Make your own dinner”, or “Do the dishes” or “Let me sleep in”, or “Take the kids for the weekend”, or “No, seriously, I really do have a headache.” I could give these to my sweetheart and see what happens. Maybe nothing will. But at least I’ll enjoy eating my words. 

  

Comments

[MaryB]

I must admit I've actually enjoyed the fact that I haven't had to deal with class Valentine's for a few years. I've also noticed over the years that it's much more fun to create (Valentines or whatever) out of choice rather than "because I have to."
I must also admit that I've never really like conversation hearts (although, I do like your saying suggestions and would definitely buy those!) But, for your future reference, Brach's makes conversation hearts too, and Ellisa says they're not too bad. She noticed the difference in Necco as well and wasn't impressed.

[Julie B.]

I loved this! I can so relate. I had a bag of hearts on the kitchen table and would grab a handful every time I walked by. Needless to say I walked by often. You're right- they don't taste all that good- but that didn't stop me. What I found out this year that was sad- I couldn't even read what was on the hearts! My eyes are so bad they were all a blur. I guess we're all getting a little older. Stinks, huh.