I was never much of a romantic. When my wife and I were dating, my idea of a romantic dinner was treating her to the surf and turf. I was never going to be confused with Casanova and knew more about San Juan than being Don Juan. But after becoming a parent, I learned a few things from my children.

Usually, the closest I came to sending flowers was apprising my wife that I'd thought of it -- but got sidetracked. I assured her this was like virtual reality as I'd virtually sent flowers. She wouldn't exactly be overwhelmed with sentiment and it didn't earn me any corsage kudos.

I attributed my many non-romantic tendencies from having to fill out the TO: and FROM: portion of 25 of those little Valentine cards in third grade. By the time I'd gotten to number 18, I'd developed severe writer's cramp.

I felt my remaining 7 classmates wouldn't be severely wounded if I didn't formally invite them to be my Valentine. However, my assignment supervisor mother had different thoughts as she made me plow forward through discomfort, weariness, as well as my bedtime, and fill them all out. From then on, I was never the biggest fan of Valentine's Day traditions. Until I became a parent.

It was then that the ramifications of my Scrooge-like Valentine's Day mentality began to appear. If I was going to be remiss in getting that bouquet of flowers and card for my wife then what lesson would I be imparting to my children about the showing of affection on this holiday? I couldn't let my curmudgeon Valentine feelings dampen their enjoyment of little candy hearts. I needed to grow up here.

Okay, truth be told, my changing philosophy didn't come from the maturity I was forced to gain in becoming a father. Heck, 80% of the time I'm still operating at the maturity level of a fourteen-year-old. No, that wasn't it.

Instead, I realized that children could be equally adept at providing meaningful lessons as they are in receiving them. I don't mean the indirect instruction that it's not a good idea to put an eight-month-old in the baby swing right after he's finished a big lunch. I mean real actions and words that were big on impact, short on verbiage. My children were the ones who delivered me a welcome Valentine's Day schooling.

This occurred in seeing my two young sons creating Valentine cards for their mother. Their natural romantic tendencies obviously didn't come from me. (I did however impart to them the ability to make a sound by cupping their palm under their armpit and how to slurp a strand of spaghetti at record speed. Hey, we all have certain talents.)

They told me that this wasn't a school-related project but something they were doing on their own. They wanted to show their love and appreciation of mom and make her happy. Hmmm, I thought. Maybe they were on to something here. I looked at my older son's poem that read:

I love you with all my heart.
You're pretty, nice and very smart.
You give me lots of extra syrup on my pancakes,
Would you please be my Valentine for goodness sakes?

How could she refuse? Short, to the point and he was going to be giving some big time love. I turned to my younger son's card that read:

Roses are red,
Violets are pink,
You're the most bestest mom ever,
Cause you give me bubble baths when I stink.

Heartfelt and creative. I was impressed. All right, perhaps this wasn't simply about the marketing of a billion or so cards every February but a day to truly acknowledge the joy which others bring to our lives. I was actually getting a little sentimental. Even felt a twinge of being slightly romantic. Whoa!

I asked to borrow a piece of plain paper and grabbed the atomic tangerine and purple pizzazz colored crayons from their box.

There are things I should have sent,
To show you all that you've meant.
Through all our remaining many miles,
I promise to give you lots of smiles.

I know you'll never confuse me with Cupid.
And sometimes I act pretty stupid.
But you know I love you so very much,
Even if I don't send roses by the bunch.

So on this Valentines would you be my date,
Because forever you'll be my soulmate.

Wow I thought as I furiously drew some hearts before my wife came downstairs. It actually rhymed!

Seeing my wife's face light up in reading the boys' cards was wonderful. I gave her my card and she read it after we revived her from passing out. I'd scored some big time brownie points.