Billy has a fish named Eric. It's a homicidal maniac that killed its three tank-mates, but that's a Halloween story. Or maybe a Christmas story, since he got the tank and fish for Christmas.

But anyway, this is a heart-warming Valentine's Day tale.

Today, Billy had group therapy. A wonderful program at the FSU Speech and Hearing Clinic, group therapy allows him to get together with two other guys about his same age, and each of them have a grad student speech therapist assigned to them, and together they work on group interactions. They play games together, share snacks, complete projects.

Because Monday is the big V-day, they made Valentine's cards together. Great idea!

And this scene, worthy of a Hallmark movie, unfolds ...

INT. THERAPY WAITING ROOM – AFTERNOON.

Moms wait, purses in lap, staring at the clock as the final minutes of group therapy tick away. (Actually, we just barely made it back from Starbucks around the corner in time to pick up our kids before they locked the building.)

Beautiful Boy #1 – we'll call him CUPID – comes barreling into the room. He spots his mom and hands her his home-made card.

CUPID: I love you, Mom!

All the moms are choked up as she gives him a big hug and they admire his handiwork together. Heck, I want to hug Cupid.

CLOSE ON ME

Expectant grin on my face.

ANGLE ON WAITING ROOM DOOR

As Billy comes barreling in.

CUT TO:

CLOSE ON MY FACE

Expectant grin is wider. It's my turn. MY TURN!

ANGLE ON BILLY

As he drops his home-made card on the floor and heads for the water fountain.

CUT TO:
ME

Grin falters... but then I take a deep breath. It's OK. I've still got the card. I plaster the grin back on my face and reach for the card.

ANGLE ON THE CARD

As I pick it up and see this:

I swear to you I saw that evil fish laughing at me tonight.

I'm a celebrator. While others scoff and roll their eyes at Valentine's Day, I get a secret thrill walking through a grocery store overstocked

with candy hearts, teddy bear-shaped balloons and roses wrapped in plastic. I believe in true love and believe it is perfectly reasonable to celebrate it by wearing matching T-shirts, eating a heart-shaped steak and making one another mix tapes.

But the holiday doesn't have to be as well-established as V-day to get me interested. I'll break out the streamers and party hats at the slightest provocation. Flag Day, Earth Day, International Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day (Feb. 23 - save the date!) -- if it were up to me, we would have a special song and an imaginary creature delivering gifts for each one of them.

I'm sure it was because of the way I was brought up. My parents were celebrators. Each of us received a card and a present for every holiday, birthday, special celebration. I have drawers full of cards from my 14th birthday, my high school graduation, the day I got my first apartment (I'm also a saver, the nice way to say "pack rat"), and of course, Valentine's Day, Easter, Halloween, you name it. We made a big deal out of any given opportunity. We decorated the yard and the house for Christmas. We packed our house full of children at every birthday -- when my mom wasn't ferrying a van-load of them to a water park, amusement park or special event.

One of the greatest things about having kids is rediscovering the simple joy of celebrating. Billy comes home from school with special crafts he's made, smeared with cupcake icing singing, "Happy Birthday, Dr. King! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, Dr. King! We honor you today!" Awesome. A birthday party for Dr. King - why didn't I think of that? (Actually, as it turned out, he got a couple of things muddled up. The cupcakes were for his classmate Luca's birthday, but his heart was in the right place.)

What's the downside? If you don't like the ridiculous pink-and-red commercialism of Valentine's Day, you can always celebrate by writing a letter -- a real letter with a pen and paper -- to someone you love. Or dump Valentine's Day altogether and take a child (or adult) you love somewhere to celebrate Ferris Wheel Day, which also falls on February 14. Or National Organ Donor Day (also Feb. 14), a bit more of a celebratory challenge, I'll grant you, but I would LOVE to hear about your efforts.

February is chock-full of reasons to kick up your heels and bake cupcakes. We've got Tooth Fairy Day (Feb. 28), Pistol Patent Day (Feb. 25), Tell a Fairy Tale Day (Feb. 26) and Polar Bear Day (Feb. 27). How could the satisfaction of eye-rolling possibly compare with the joy of celebrating National Random Acts of Kindness Day (Feb. 17) or the simple pleasure of rewarding yourself on National Chocolate Mint Day (Feb. 19) and Cherry Pie Day (Feb. 20).

In fact, Feb. 20 could become the greatest holiday ever if you celebrated cherry pies, loving your pet and National Hoodie Hoo Day. This last holiday is apparently celebrated by walking outside at noon, raising your hands over your head and shouting "Hoodie Hoo!" at the top of your lungs, in the hopes of chasing away winter. I guess this is in case the whole groundhog thing didn't work out.

Just be aware, if you keep rolling your eyes, expect a visit from me on February 16: "National Do A Grouch a Favor Day." We can join hands and sing a song I made up for "Public Sleeping Day" (Feb. 28) before writing our letters to the Tooth Fairy.