At 8:00pm on Valentine’s Day I stood at the sink doing dishes. The kids were all in bed but Richard hadn’t even left work yet.
Since Cameron didn’t have school on V-day we had spent part of the evening putting together his valentines cards for his class party. I thought back to Valentine’s days of past. I laughed as I recalled my years of elementary school where the valentine selection was pretty much the same, simple paper cards. If you were lucky your mom bought the candy hearts to go inside, and occasionally the rich kids put something even better in your bag. I remember individually selecting the candy hearts with words that I wanted to say to each classmate, saving the most romantic ones for my crush and wondering if he would even notice.
Many valentines have passed since then. Some have been full of amorous infatuation. I have only one unmarried coworker who is 20 and in such a relationship. Today she received a large bouquet of lilies. They were beautiful and the rest of us married women fawned over them while she blushed.
After work I fed the kids cereal for dinner and decided to ask Richard to pick up something on his way home from work for us to eat. Around 8:15 when he called to ask what I wanted, we discussed.
Me: I want a hamburger.
Richard: What kind?
Me: I don’t know… I never get hamburgers.
Richard: Okay. What else?
Me: Fries and a drink.
Me: Very romantic.
Richard: We’re so old.
Me: I’m so pregnant.
Earlier in the evening when I picked up the kids from my in-laws I told my father-in-law to enjoy a relaxing and quiet Valentine’s Day with his wife. I told my co-worker with teenage daughters to go out with her husband, just because she could, because she could do so without having to call a babysitter or even feed her girls who were perfectly capable of doing so on their own.
I have no complaints about this stage of life. Well, except that my sciatic nerve hurts and those lilies smelled so good I wouldn’t have minded getting a bouquet of my own.