Valentine Ritual

The dramatic event of Valentine's Day comes well before the actual day in our household.   All year long, the girls anticipate the Father-Daughter dance at the Rec. Center: the sweet food, the photograph with Dad, the spinning and running around, the pre-dance dinner.  

It is a very heightened event, and usually someone ends up with a panic attack or a broken heart.  (This year, the photo prompted the panic attack and the broken heart involved a stolen cookie.)  Still, they wouldn't miss it.

While the girls have all that fun, I go with the boys to paint pottery and to dinner.  Since John is a "bull in a china shop," Will and I did pottery alone.  Afterwards, the three of us went for an early dinner. 

The night for both Jeff and me has a romantic quality really.  We both rush through our evenings, with something akin to butterflies in our stomach.  The events tend to be a blur, with highs and lows and drama and sweet connection.  But looking back, our hearts are filled with affection, and a little bit of amnesia.