J's daycare has a Valentine's Day card exchange. Ms L said hand-made cards would work perfect too. Lacking the time, I hit the nearest Dollar General and was not disappointed. Love is very cheap as it turns out.
Almost every relationship is represented in the love-fest except pets. Maybe a pet store would be the place of that. Being the evening before, the store was doing brisk business - clearly the preferred choice of those who have to dole out love by the dollop to the crowds.
Once home, J was assigned the task of picking a card for each friend - we had ten different kinds. Except for her current best buddy she did not care who got what and her interest followed a diminishing curve until at last we came to a certain kid called S that J never talks about. Love is hardly equal or democratic even at four years old.
J will be bringing home ten cards and a ton of sugary treats tomorrow as will all her friends. If only every child was on a healthy diet of love and care instead of this bulimia triggering binge of Valentine's Day.
I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...
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