We had a lovely time last night with the kids. Kiersi did fall asleep in the van as we drove the twenty minutes to pick up the boys from school - one moment, she was singing some song she learned at nursery school at the top of her lungs, the next minute she was completely silent as if she'd been unplugged.
"She seems a bit tired," I remarked, looking in the rear-view mirror at Kiersi's little head tipped backwards, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut so tightly, it gave the impression of giving great energy even to sleep.
We pulled up under the Meeting Tree at Kieren's school and he came loping out like a cool guy in a brown corduroy jacket. "Hey!" he said, getting into the van.
"How was your day?" I asked, backing out of the parking space.
"Oh, you know...." he said vaguely. "Just...."
"Yes, schoolish. Long week. Glad it's over."
Dayden's school is right next door, so we zoomed over there and Kieren went in to get him. Dayden came running out ahead, grasping a backpack in one hand and a bag of candy that looked like it weighed about two pounds. His hair was considerably shorter than when I'd seen him about two weeks ago; Pat warned me ahead of time that Dayden had decided the evening before to cut his own hair, starting with his bangs. Apparently, he cut them off right next to the hairline, which necessitated a panic-drive to a hair salon, where Dayden was moved to tears of regret over his illicit styling maneuvers and slumped into the shop with a hood pulled far over his head.
He didn't look as bad as I'd prepared myself for and he cheerfully hopped into the van and proceeded to torment Aisling, with whom he was sharing the rear seat of the van. Kieren, Meelyn and I chatted about the week as we drove.
Kiersi slept on.
The evening absolutely flew by. I'd prepared the marinara sauce and the Alfredo earlier in the day; I'd also cooked the two different kinds of chicken. All I had to do for dinner, therefore, was bake the bread and the brownies and cook the pasta (I chose farfalle because it is so cute.) The teens and I spent a lot of time playing cards and Daydie got on the computer and visited Webkinz World, plus went to his second grade class's website and played educational math and language games, which made me very proud of him.
Kieren got a valentine from a girl who rides his bus -- just a friend, he says, although as handsome as he is, I'm inclined to believe that the young lady in question might see things a bit differently. The girls and I asked him what he did when she gave him the card and he said he opened it, read it, said, "That's a really nice card" and then threw it in the trash as soon as she was out of sight. Meelyn and Aisling ragged him about that until he said with dignity that Valentine's card are wasted on the male of the species, which I, from experience, agree with.
When I was in the eighth grade, I got a necklace as a Valentine's gift from my boyfriend Scott. It was an oval of polished onyx with a teeny-tiny diamond chip in it, on a gold chain. It was very pretty and I wore it under my blouse so that my parents wouldn't see it and kill me. It was a very romantic gift and a very innocent little relationship and possibly my one claim to fame during my school years because Scott was handsome and popular and on the junior varsity football team. We walked around the concourse of the high school field house during basketball games, holding hands. I was devastated when he moved to Beech Grove to live with his mom the next year.
The necklace's chain broke long ago and I gave the pendant to my husband to take to the pawn shop last year at this time when he worked at that other place, which we affectionately refer to as "Hell On Earth" and had no money at all.
Pat and Angie showed up shortly after ten, smiling, so their dinner was a success, I'm thinking. We all gathered Kiersi's stuff from every corner of the house. They stayed and talked for awhile, most of it riffing on me for something NICE I'd done the day before, which I may devote to another post as soon as I dry my sad tears at being so MISUNDERSTOOD.
Here's last year's Valentine's Day post, Love over lo mein, involving Chinese mustard and the family at the next table, who were both tall and germophobic. In separate incidents, just in case you were wondering.
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