As a kid, I heard this story many times. My dad had a married nephew, my cousin – who was the son of an older sister, and much older than I (I won’t name names here). I remember him as a lanky, happy-go-lucky sort with a wide smile that often seemed a bit goofy to me. He didn’t take all those romantic occasions very seriously. One Valentine’s Day, he got an old dried up horse biscuit from the pasture, wrapped it up, and gave it to his wife. Later on that day, she ground part of it up and put it in his coffee.
I told my wife this story, and she said, “My family never did things like that! If they got mad at each other, they just didn’t speak for years!”