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Another holiday
Feb. 14th, 2004 09:25 amI have not had the best of luck with Valentine's Day in the past. It's not just about the pressure surrounding the day to Be Romantic, or the salt the gets rubbed in the wounds during times when I was single or about to be; it's actually approaching the level of active jinx at times.
This morning, I slipped a signed and sealed valentine under Abbey's door while she was squirreled away in her room with her guinea pig, and crept downstairs to await her acknowledgement. Five minutes went by, ten, and I heard nothing, not even an opening door. So I crept back to her room and knocked to be let in. When she spoke to me, ice water dripped from her voice.
"I got your card," she said, sounding like I'd just forced her to chug a broccoli smoothie. "I already got a card, from Grandma and Grandpa."
"Well, yes," I said, trying to keep the smile in my words, "but this one's from me."
Abbey scarcely glanced up from the TV. "Well, the one from Grandma had a dollar in it, and you can color inside it. That's what I wanted." She paused. "So I sent it back."
Sure enough, in my bedroom I found a familiar-looking red envelope with a valentine in it, with the word "Abbey" printed neatly on the front. On the floor, no less.
When I get rebuffed by my own daughter, you know the jinx is hard at work. I know she's seven. I know she's doing what seven-year-olds do. Didn't stop me from crying.
This morning, I slipped a signed and sealed valentine under Abbey's door while she was squirreled away in her room with her guinea pig, and crept downstairs to await her acknowledgement. Five minutes went by, ten, and I heard nothing, not even an opening door. So I crept back to her room and knocked to be let in. When she spoke to me, ice water dripped from her voice.
"I got your card," she said, sounding like I'd just forced her to chug a broccoli smoothie. "I already got a card, from Grandma and Grandpa."
"Well, yes," I said, trying to keep the smile in my words, "but this one's from me."
Abbey scarcely glanced up from the TV. "Well, the one from Grandma had a dollar in it, and you can color inside it. That's what I wanted." She paused. "So I sent it back."
Sure enough, in my bedroom I found a familiar-looking red envelope with a valentine in it, with the word "Abbey" printed neatly on the front. On the floor, no less.
When I get rebuffed by my own daughter, you know the jinx is hard at work. I know she's seven. I know she's doing what seven-year-olds do. Didn't stop me from crying.
