You know, I never had a boyfriend on the most romantic of days, until my Michael came along. I kind of thought to myself " it's just another day". And that helped me cope with seeing all my girlfriends receiving their balloons and flowers and goodies. But the allure of the pink and red that adorned all the stores always tugged at my heartstrings. I remember when I was older, sending my mom flowers or picking her up some chocolates. Once, I remember getting her a new vacuum (yeah, not so sure about the thought process behind that one). Anyway, as far back as I can remember Mom would get us a tiny little box of chocolates. She was my only valentine. Then about 12 years ago, Michael and I spent our very first Valentine's day together.
We had only been dating a couple weeks, and this whole thing was very new to me. I knew we weren't serious enough for an "I love you" balloon or stuffed animal, because I still felt very nervous around him and the awkwardness of our dates and phone conversations proved that he felt the same. Desperate, I called his sister, whom I had barely ever spoken to, to give me some advice. She told me that Michael was a huge fan of eagles. Not the band. The actual bird. And that he had a little collection (yes, kind of like an old lady) of ceramic ones. You would think finding out my masculine suitor had a collection of knickknacks would send me in the opposite direction. But, I just thought it was precious and it made me like him a little more. And, with this new information, I had finally decided what to get him. He showed up at my mom's and he looked SOOOOO cute. I was very nervous, and my stomach was fluttering away. For some reason, my mom and my best friend Jennifer watched intently (adding to the weirdness) as I gave him the coolest looking ceramic eagle with a little clock nestled between his body and the branch where he rested. Then Michael gave me red flowers and a pink box of chocolates. My very first REAL valentine gift. It was very obvious that mine wasn't the only stomach with butterflies. We told our spectators goodbye, and we went to meet his sister and my cousin (they were dating at the time) for supper. We held hands on the way. Then after our meal, we headed home. He was my valentine, and I was his. It was sweet. Simple. Memorable.
Millions of more comfortable conversations and sweet kisses and warm hugs and giggles and a prom and 2 graduations and countless arguments and a wedding and job changes and 4 pregnancies and weight gain and burnt suppers and pretty good suppers and more weight gain and stretch marks and the end of all shaving, and tshirts forging their way into dressy attire, and the purchase of the coolest minivan ever, and a lil more weight gain, and a million more conversations, and sweet kisses and warm hugs, and giggles later, we are still, very much, each other's valentines.
Last night, after receiving an invitation via text message that read like this:
You.
Me.
Loredo.
NO KIDS!
I smiled to myself and giddily tried to find something to wear that made me look less mom-ish. But considering I haven't lost enough weight to come out of my maternity wear, this proved a bit difficult. We dumped the kids like a bad habit and took off in his truck to Loredo Grill. I couldn't help but notice that he looked SOOOO cute. On the way, we had the greatest uninterrupted (and comfortable) conversation about everything and nothing. And we held hands. Then in the parking lot, before walking in, we shared a sweet kiss without the eyes of laughing little ones burning our cheeks. Over chips and salsa, the giggles were abundant as we share the same odd and sometimes demented sense of humor. And before picking up our little ones, headed up the steps to my inlaw's house, we shared a familiar warm hug. We still got it.
Feeling more in love than ever as our night came to a close, I couldn't help but think, "It's just another day".
No comments:
Post a Comment