Back in the Pleistocene Era of our marriage when there was plenty of time and energy to devote to the planning and execution of Valentine’s Day, we devoted time and energy to Valentine’s Day.
Alyson called me this afternoon at four thirty. Was I picking up Ellie Kate from track practice, and if I wasn’t, could I? Aly had just touched down at home to cook dinner. “I don’t want to get back out. Please?”
“And I need you to go to the grocery.” I obliged, begrudgingly and sweetly. I have my paycheck on direct deposit with Publix, which is a huge time saver.
“And, Ellie Kate absolutely positively must be picked up no later than ten minutes after five because the track coach will not, let me repeat, will not wait around for parents who fail to manage their lives with less precision than NOAH Weather Radio.”
I think I said something like “shut your yabber gabber” before I pledged my love and hung up the phone. And, I was there on time, along with a full parking lot of middle age parental lovers anxious for tomorrow’s Valentine’s throw down. I rolled past one Volvo blaring premature Barry White. Of course, Coach Stopwatch ended pratice late, which made my mad dash to the grocery all for naught. If I had known I had an extra ten minutes I would have cherished my stroll down aisles ten and two looking for taco seasoning and tortilla chips. I take my alone time when I gets it.
After dinner Alyson and I played seventeen rounds of Rock, Paper, Napalm to see who won the prize of driving one of our offspring (who shall remain nameless) back to our vacation home to purchase a card and box of candy for their special valentine. Alyson won. I was the gracious loser. Maybe fate will shine upon me tomorrow and I will go to the grocery THREE times!
Ahh tomorrow…that special day of romance and devotion. Ellie Kate has a doctor’s appointment at two o’clock, and Jake is getting a cavity filled at two-forty. Then its track and play practice for both, a frozen pizza dinner and homework somehow, and decorating for Ellie Kate’s birthday, which is Wednesday. Thank God Grace Ann moved out last year to art school…its the nicest thing she has ever done for Alyson and me.
But at least Aly and I will be able to go out and have dinner with each other tomorrow night, stealing a few moments amidst the craziness. Good idea anyway. We waited too late to make reservations. Fleur De Lys is booked tomorrow night. Go figure.
Our Valentine’s date will happen on February 21. It might be a little anticlimactic, but at least we get to go to the grocery nine more times between now and then.
Happy Valentine’s Day ya’ll. Good marriages and relationships are forged in the everyday events anyway. Aly and I love each other, and we love our kids, just like God loves us. Always, and forever. No matter what the calendar says.