I ❤️ you, I say. Same, says he. Feeling the love ….

Last night I sat with the boys as they put together valentines for their classmates. I think they had four or five boxes of cards that got dumped on the table. The older two needed no help. I didn’t even check theirs. At 9 and 12 they know who their classmates are, and hopefully, how to spell their names.

Little Bear, however,  was a challenge. And not quite so interested. After addressing eight or nine envelopes, he was done.

“You have to put the cards in the envelopes too, ” I insisted.

”No you don’t. They didn’t come with cards.”

9FD4A7E5-8CD9-4A3A-BBD7-8B35D229B053I found some cards amongst the pile but he refused to sign them.

“How will your friends know who they’re from?”

With his head cocked to one side, he looked at me with the sideways wisdom only a seven year old can muster. “If I give it to them, they will know it’s from me. Who else would it be from?”

not at all feeling the love here …

I signed them later after he’d long gone to sleep.

And then, while cleaning up the table, I found this package of about a dozen little erasers that perfectly matched Little Bear’s valentine envelopes. I tucked the erasers into the envelopes but will say nothing more about it. I don’t mind admitting I’m wrong but definitely not in the mood for an I Told You So from a seven year old. And why would you put erasers in an envelope and call it a valentine anyway? Wonder what genius came up with that idea!

I’m not a particularly big fan of Valentines Day, not like some. I once had a valentine made from a cigarette package. It was a pop-up. Very original for the time, I suspect. (the pop up thing,  not the cigarette package – that was just unusual).  That’s the  only valentine I remember and I probably wouldn’t remember that if I hadn’t kept it for about a million years.

443B2C82-4324-41F5-9630-9E9A54C966EA

I lay down with Little Bear last night until he drifted off. He wanted stories and we made up a pretend story about cupcakes for people you love. He was very chatty but settled after a while.

“I love you,” I said.

”Same,” says he.

And then …

“What’s that noise, Gram?”

”Nothing. I think it’s the drier. Go to sleep.”

It wasn’t.

Half an hour later I was crawling under the house on my belly through the muck and the water, looking for the main valve to turn off the deluge that was gushing from an overhead pipe. Came inside, changed, and finished signing Little Bear’s cards.

still not feeling the love …

#1 son arrived shortly thereafter, crawled under the house, and fixed the problem. I went home.

Today it all seems rather funny. Today I’m in a very good mood.

Happy Valentines Day?

Same.

 

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