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How to Say it


If there had been time before eight-year-old Things-Two flushed, I’m sure we would have been able to count at least 50 shades of green in the chocolate-aced mystery meal he coughed up just a few moments earlier.

Our Valentines plans on a snowy afternoon and evening included the kids, a steak dinner, and chocolate.  Thing-Two, however, had discovered the chocolate early and quietly volunteered to verify the quality of each in the Russell Stover’s box. In doing so, he proves once again that all not all valentine celebrations are created equal.

The absence of a reliable cadre of local babysitters has created a Valentine’s tradition that includes a day of sloth concluded with a family meal fit for a hungry king of the sloths.  it isn’t fancy, but the Big Guy and I agree that the quiet, gluttonous day together is just another way to say, “I love you”.
There have been other “I love you’s” over the years. The first one, for me, followed a fancy dinner that had featured grilled Portabella mushrooms, to which I was disgustingly allergic. Into a bucket. For three days.
Hollywood’s offering for Valentine’s 2015 would have you believe that nothing says “I love you” quite like a guy stalking, manipulating, and abusing you (erotically of course). After 20 valentines with the Big Guy, I can only say that, for me, the only way to say “I love you” better than holding your soon-to-be  fiancé’s hair back while she worships at the porcelain god, is the way he said it yesterday.
Thing-Two was down for the night. The Big Guy had just turned on the stove, but looked at me and said, “why don’t we just celebrate tomorrow.” Which we decided to do. The two of us settled in on the couch for an evening of sitcoms and snuggling, and I decided that nothing really says “I love you” like a partner who still takes life’s little emergencies in stride because he knows them up will be there long after the holiday is crossed off of the calendar.