Happy VD

The sweetness of my little Bugaboo is being squandered.

Although I have always felt she was just a little too special for us and we didn't quite deserve to have such a perfect child, I know without a shadow of a doubt that the shining magnificence that is her is utterly wasted on the boy she has.

Until they are about 10, little boys are sweet and thoughtful and loving and considerate and will give their Mommies a Valentine with unabashed enthusiasm. But as the testosterone level rises, the thoughtfulness diminishes. (Usually. There ARE exceptions that prove the rule, such as my SSB!) The women in their lives - moms, sisters, grammas, girlfriends and wives - get fewer and fewer tokens as the years pass. Women are fully aware of this phenomenon but we somehow keep holding on to a thread of hope anyway. Eventually after enough slamming of doors, stomping of feet and glaring of eyes the boy will learn what to do on special occasions, but what he really is learning is that he HATES special occasions. Especially Valentine's Day.

Last night Bugaboo went straight to work right after school then to Wal-Mart to get her boy a Valentine present. She came home just before 9:00 and stayed up late making a homemade card for him. Here it is:

Isn't that cute?

And she bought him a little purple hedgehog holding a heart that says "Kiss Me". It was the most masculine thing she could find. She put it in a bag that she decorated. She really is a very talented artist. Wouldn't you love to get this for Valentines Day?

So every morning they write notes to each other and before school she puts his in his bag while he's swimming and gets hers out. This morning, Valentine's morning, he asked if it was OK if he didn't give her a note because his mom woke him up 10 minutes late and he was rushed. I told her he's probably just playing with her, making her expect nothing when he really has a great Valentine for her. I knew in my heart of hearts that was probably not the case, but I clung tightly to that thread.

Alas, testosterone won out over the ever-present female hope and there was nothing there for her. Oh foolish, foolish boy. Even if he somehow thought he could survive the fury of a woman scorned, that is nothing compared to the fury of the mother of the scorned. The story actually does get worse, but you all are already thinking he doesn't deserve her (and rightly so) and I don't want to be TOO hard on him in public. Not during Lent anyway. But he better lay low for a while and stay away from me. It could be ugly otherwise. Grrr!