All we need is love.
Bear's early celebration of Valentine's Day started with his feet hitting the floor at 6:30 a.m. Church pants, check. "Button shirt," check. Cowboy boots? Sure. My little buckaroo was ready before 7:00 a.m., before, even, Yukon and I had fully fortified ourselves with coffee.
Boots clattering against the floor, Bear proceeded to pack his own lunch ("I put in goldfish crackers and a fruit leather"), pop a waffle in the toaster, and suck down some orange juice. Clearly, the day held great anticipation for our smallest son on this his first Valentine's Day.
When I got there after lunch, the kids were all assembled at their tables, small paper plates full of pinkish snack items. I helped peel some oranges, open some juice boxes, all while trying to reel in five and six year-old enthusiasm for what came next.
When turned loose to fill each other's envelopes with treasures, treats, and assorted valentines sporting SpongeBob, Lightening McQueen, and/or Tinkerbell (double those), this class of 19 danced around the room with glee.
Everybody was happy. Especially me. Even more so when we arrived home and fished a red envelope out of the mailbox to find a card addressed to Bear from Wolf. That one got top mention when Yukon came home tonight.