It wouldn't be so bad, but I've had a bit of a rough week. Just a bunch of unpleasant little things (like unplanned renovations, a sinus infection, an ant infestation (there were four dead or dying ants in my bathroom just now), or technical difficulties) that culminated in my taking a hot "pity" bath along with a glass of wine and a bucket of tears the other evening. I really wanted Steve to be here, to spoon with.
I'm sure one of the kids would've been happy to give me a hug, but it's not the same. And it's not what I wanted.
So I sent Steve an e-mail saying that I realllly wanted a hug. He replied almost immediately, with words of comfort, and I felt a little better.
A few minutes later (Just after I knocked over a full liqueur glass of Sambucca! Could this week get any worse? Seriously!), Brian came upstairs, handed me a red envelope, and said, "Here. This is from Dad."
Turns out that, as soon as he received my plaintive e-mail, Steve had texted Brian and told him where to find the Valentine's card and to bring it upstairs to me. No point in waiting for a special day when he knew I needed to feel loved RIGHT NOW.
As I opened the card, I told Brian that he should take lessons from his dad when it comes to love.
"Oh, I have," he affirmed. "I have."
Good. At least one other person on the planet stands a chance of being as blessed as I am.
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