Valentine’s Day seems to come with different expectations as you go through life.
Birth-10 years old: candy candy candy
10 years to 26 years: that boy is cute, does he like me or does he like that other girl, will he send me a valentine, should I send him a valentine, should I sign it “love”, and on and on.
26 years to 30 years: romance (aka: Blast! I forgot to get Matty B a card. I know he got me a card. I’ll bet he wrote something sweet in it, too. I wonder if I have time to run to Target?)
31 years to current: kid valentines such as…
(And these Valentines are the reason that moms love me and kids say, can I have one with a lollipop instead?)
You’ll recall that Matty B and I celebrated Valentine’s Day last weekend at Cameo Heights Mansion, and Matty B got me some beautiful roses, so I didn’t feel like I missed out on any Valentine joy.
Which made today a perfectly acceptable day to invite friends over and eat off of paper (albeit Valentine) plates.
And make cookies from a mix.
Despite the photo evidence, we ate more than cookies, although it was in the form of carbs+salad+carbs.
Additionally, we exchanged valentines that said things like “you’re meow-velous” and “I hope you have a princess-perfect day!”
It was the perfect Valentine’s Day for these kids…
…and it was pretty perfect for me too.
You might say it was pretty “princess-perfect”…
P.S. I did get Matty B a card this year, and I got it early and I wrote in it last night, so I’m absolutely a good wife.