I was so pleased when my husband Luke announced that he was going to make me a Valentine's Day Dinner. (We usually sit and eat separate meals on our laps - mainly because I am on a permanent diet). I had been having exactly the same thought, so we agreed that he would make the main and I would make the pudding. Not that we ever eat pudding I thought afterwards, but planned a fruit salad. He's a photographer and yesterday he announced that he would have to work, tonight, Valentines' Night, so bang goes our romantic dinner.
He gave me a bunch of flowers at breakfast. Very nice too but At 1230 when I was picking up my daughter, I saw a man delivering a huge bunch of red roses to someone at my son's school. "Are they for me?" I joked, wishing slightly that they were. I bundled Belle into the car and whisked her off to the garage for petrol. While we were there, I hastily bought some chocolates in a heart-shaped box to give to Luke before he goes off to his job. Belle had made 2 Valentines Day cards at school, which she said were for her best friend, Ella. Then later she conceded that they were both for me. We gave one to Daddy, plus the chocolates.
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I would have eaten the chocolates!
My great grandchildren made two valintine cards, one for Mummy and Dan (her partner) and one for Grandad. Cheers. What about me I said, why just Grandad? They said it was because he was so poorly and they wanted him to be well again. Ever had little children make you feel like a first class bitch? I forgave them immediately of course and gave them hugs and kisses for being so wonderful.
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