Children's Short Story: Fun Kid's Story for Children Who Hate Valentine's Day

"I hate Valentine's Day; it's the worst holiday ever. It's even dumber than Groundhog Day!" I grumbled, stripping off my basketball jersey and slam-dunking it into the wicker laundry basket.

"Uggh, uumph," my twin brother, Randall, mumbled from inside the shirt that was caught on his nose and ears. He pulled it free with a jerk and said, "Yeah, and Valentine's Day is tomorrow." Then he tossed his sweaty jersey toward the hamper. It sailed through the air, snagged the edge of the basket and slid in.

"Awesome," we yelled, as we jumped and slapped each other in a high-five.

Randall sat glumly on the bed. "Blair, you know Mom is gonna tell us we have to give Valentine's cards to everyone in class."

"Yeah, I know. She'll say it's only polite. And that we should make the valentines ourselves, so they have meaning." I scratched a skeeter bite on my arm, wondering if I could claim the bump was chicken pox and get out of the school Valentine's party.

My brother sighed. "She's probably already got out the construction paper, glue and ... "

"Those sissy-looking paper doilies." I finished the sentence for him with a shudder. "When they open our Valentine's cards, everyone will once again think we're ..."

"Dorks!" He finished the sentence for me. Twins are allowed to do that.

Just then Mom popped her head into our room. "Boys, I just bought a pack of construction paper and some of those cute doilies for you. Why don't you come down and make your Valentine's cards now?"

I rolled my eyes and Randall sighed but we didn't want to hurt Mom's feelings-okay, mostly we didn't want to get grounded for arguing-so we pulled on tee-shirts and started down the stairs. The clomping sound from our shoes bounced against the walls and I thought I could almost hear the kids in class tomorrow, laughing and making wisecracks. Why couldn't we just buy cards, like everyone else? Or go live in China where they probably gave fortune cookies for Valentine's Day?

My brother sat down at the table and put his head in his hands, moaning to himself. I looked for a long time at the colored paper and the white doilies. Then I leaned over and whispered in his ear. He nodded, grabbed a couple of magic markers and we went to work. When we were done, not a single piece of construction paper had been used.

The next day, as we put our cards into the class box, I crossed my fingers and Randall crossed his eyes. Then we waited.

At two o'clock, Mrs. Abernathy started our Valentine's party by opening the box, pulling out a card and calling, "Jeff Simonsen."

I could tell the handwriting on the envelope was mine. I pretended to yawn. "This is it, "I whispered to my brother. "If Jeff likes it, everyone will."

Jeff opened the envelope and pulled out what was inside-a doily. My brother had colored the edge in yellow and black. In the center, I'd drawn eyes and a nose and the words, "Funky Flyer," that I'd printed as a mouth turned up into a smile.

Jeff frowned at first and then he realized what "Funky Flyer" meant. He threw it side-armed-like a Frisbee-to Dean and it hovered in the air for a second, looking like a crazy bumblebee, before it landed. Dean laughed and said, "Wow, cool!" Then he flung it out the door, and into the hall, where it buzzed a fifth grader walking past.

By the end of the party, the valentines we'd made were zooming back and forth across the room.

Randall leaned to the side to avoid one that was coming straight at his nose. "I always told you-"

"That Valentine's Day is the best holiday ever!" I finished the sentence for him and then laughed-just as a doily ... umm, I mean, Funky Flyer ... hit me in the back of the head.