I've been thinking about all the mothers around the world who will be sacrificing their sleep tonight to make their kids' Valentines boxes for school tomorrow. Thanks to my mom for doing that for us.
Remember that one year I decided to make handmade Valentines inclusive of pink doilies, ribbon, and lots of glitter? That was fun for me but mom was probably ready to beat me as I went to bed and she stayed up to finish what I'd started. Mom, thanks for that one too.
Or then there was the year that mom made me the CUTEST red jumper for me to wear to school and even bought me big red heart clip-on earrings to match. I was adorable. But recess brought the lovely experience of being chased by two boys, both of which were wearing Wranglers, and I tripped and skid across the asphalt on my face. Yep. You guessed it. I completely scraped the skin off one side of my face, arm, and leg spraining the ankle along the way. Mom had to come pick me up from school only to find me with a Phantom of the Opera look going on and little remains of asphalt stuck in my raw cheek and forehead. Mom, thanks for not shuddering like everyone else did for the following week. I remember that dad's performing group was taking group pictures that day so mom had to drag me to the photo shoot with her. I remember accidentally letting my face skim across one of the performers sleeves and she made a big old fuss about it. Way to make an eight year old feel good about herself. I'm probably scarred for life.
I was an elementary school girlfriend. You know, there was this boy who I never talked to and I never looked at. Never. That would have been majorly embarrassing but I was definitely his girlfriend because he brought me presents for every holiday. EVERY SINGLE ONE. I never brought him presents. It was kind of a one-sided relationship. It kind of got uncomfortable because how do you tell a person that you never talk to that you don't need another M&M music box? Oh, young love.
Truth be told, Valentines has always been fairly eventful throughout my life and not for the reasons you'd expect surrounding this holiday of love. I will spare you from the other 20+ years of Valentines shenanigans but let me say this: I probably won't get to see the Mister at all tomorrow (except for when I watch him on the news). We celebrated the big V-day on Saturday because we knew tomorrow would be out of the question, but let me tell you something, I love my Valentine. I think he's pretty awesome and he would never give me an M&M music box or wear wranglers. I love him.
So, happy Love Day my friends. Buy yourself a box of chocolates. They taste the same no matter who they're from.
UPDATE: I DID IT! I spoke in Spanish in front of lots of people. When I started my talk I almost started crying because I was so nervous. Naturally, I broke out into a serious sweating episode but somehow I made it through the rain. I messed up over and over and the first two rows made it a habit to correct every word I said incorrectly, so it was more of an interactive sacrament meeting. I loved it. I can't even tell you how much I adore our ward (ward (noun): name of a geographic area whose inhabitants are assigned to attend a specific building at a specific time.) I never want to move. Never.