Until last year, I had been a bit of a Valentine’s Day curmudgeon. I don’t feel that way anymore. In fact, I am so overflowing with love that I am thrilled to have one day when I can say “I love you” 25 times a day instead of 10.
How could you not say “I love you” 25 times to this?
So, the dozen roses my husband and son gave to me do not seem cheesy, as I once may have thought.
And the chocolate covered strawberries they made for me before I got home yesterday taste especially delicious. Making them, apparently, required an extra bath for Anderson because he was so covered in chocolate.
And the valentine from Anderson’s girlfriend will likely be in plain view well into March.
And the bottle of wine Chris picked out for the two of us to share after Anderson’s bed time seems extra thoughtful, especially with yet another massive snowstorm about to bury our city once again.
Happy Valentine’s Day. Good luck with your snowblowers and shovels and roofs, Boston.