My Little Valentines

This year, I decided to celebrate Valentine’s Day by spoiling my 2 little rugrats. On Valentine’s Eve, after the kids were both nestled snug in their beds while F was on call surrounded by meds, I got to work. I hung up dangly silver and red hearts from the ceiling, laid out matching silver and red plates and carefully displayed AyAy and Ting Ting’s valentines — sparkly princess and ballerina stickers for Ayay and Elmo and puppy stickers for Ting Ting, new books about love and heart-shaped bubble bath.

The next morning, the girls and I woke up together in my bed.

“Mommy! It’s Valentine’s Day! I want to make Daddy a valentine,” Ayay said.

After wandering around the house, gathering materials and making F’s valentines, Ayay noticed all the decorations and gifts.

“Wow! Someone decorated the house and left Valentine treats for us! I think it was Daddy. He came home while we were sleeping and set up all this stuff!”

“You think so?” I asked.

“Yeah! It was Daddy,” she decides. “And he knows EXACTLY what I like!”

Hmm, not Mommy? Why not me?

A few hours later, F came home.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look! We have dangly hearts! And heart plates! And Penelope and I got books! And stickers! And bubble bath! Did you come home in the middle of the night and leave all this stuff?” she panted.

“No, it wasn’t me. It was your mom,” F told her.

“No…it wasn’t Mommy,” she said while she gave me an odd look, a look that said, “Mommy really couldn’t have done this!”

Seriously? Why couldn’t it have been me?

“It really was.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was. I was at the hospital ALL night. Your mom put everything up when you girls were sleeping,” F explained.

Pause. Odd look.

“Oh.”

No mention of thanks. No hug. No I Love You. Just Oh.

But that didn’t bother me one bit.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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3 responses to “My Little Valentines

  1. Boy! Don’t I know this one! My dad would be gone for 3 or 4 MONTHS at a time, but when he got home, he was like Father Christmas, this wonderful person, who had all the cool surprises and great stories. My poor mother.
    Luckily, like Nathe, he was no glory hound and we eventually got it figured out.
    Hang in there.

  2. your deadpan delivery at the end is hilarious. love that you’re doing this blog. -Stefan

  3. Um, I think this must resonate a little too much because out of nowhere my eyes flooded with tears!

    My mom used to always say we were going to write a book when we grew up called ‘The Witch and Mr. Wonderful’…guess that’s the hard part of being the one that’s home all the time đŸ˜¦

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