Maybe I’m wrong.
Cards aren’t the only way to celebrate a relationship. (See yesterday’s post, if you’re wondering what I’m talking about.)
My Valentine’s started with the smells of sausage and eggs, and is that coffee brewing? Yes. When I entered the kitchen, Michael poured me a cup.
I went to my daughter’s preschool Valentine’s program. I was searching for a spot in the parking lot, and who is that walking there? Michael. He decided to to play, too.
I spent the afternoon in the mall with my sister, watching over my kids and hers while she shopped for shoes and jeans. And is that a text from Michael? He said he was at home, prepping the walls so we can paint our back entry, a honey-do task finally checked off the list.
And what else is this on my phone? A facebook message sent in the morning. A love letter in three sentences from Michael.
I returned and unpacked our purchases, tired from managing young children in a public place but excited to be home again. Excited to see the spots and spots of spackling on the walls. It’s gorgeous progress. And what’s this inside the fridge? Tecate, a Mexican beer, that Michael said reminded him of summer. He opened one for me. “That’s a fun surprise,” I said. I gave him a hug and said thanks for all the other surprises, too.