Sex. Haha.
Go back with me a few years, back to the Valentine's Day 9 months after Shaun and I were married, when he was a very mature man, all of 20 years old. It was the first morning of the year that he wasn't late for a class, and not only that, but was up before me. Why was he up so early, you ask? Why, decorating the house in pastel Post-its, of course! Reminiscent of candy hearts that said "Be Mine" "Kiss" "Hug" "I Heart You" and- remember he's at the ripe old age of twenty- "Sex" with a small "haha" scratched in above it.
That's right. Forget the niceties, let's talk biology... and you and me, sex baby. And imagine my surprise to awake to a house (okay, a basement,) wallpapered in post-its with such blatant declarations of his love... or his, well...
Fast forward to the present, to yesterday afternoon, when Madalyn found a plastic bag full of college memorobilia in our study and went through it like buried treasure, staring at pictures of mommy on roller skates, and cards with glitter and loopy handwriting, of daddy on a beach when he weighed 130 lbs and looked more like an anorexic version of me...
I let her explore it (aka- fling it to and fro-) appreciating her sentiment. A few minutes passed and then she brought me an old card with some Post-its stuck all over it, featuring the infamous sex! haha Post-it right in the middle.
"Look at the invitation I made for Andrew," she said.
The invitation she made. For Andrew: Sex, haha.
The kids like to make cards for their friends at school and deliver them by way of their cubby holes. Every day is Valentine's Day to them. Evan takes drawings in our junkmail envelope sleeves and showers his classmates with gifts from Acclaim healthcare Benefits daily. So when she handed this "invitation" to me, my mind was already watching her place this it in the little boy's cubby: the what might've been. I could already see the cops patrolling the walk because there was talk of a Sexual Predator who had been placing obscene notes in the children's cubbies: Sex! haha...
When I was in middle school, I remember being in the car with my dad and my brother one afternoon, and they wanted to run in a hardware store. "I'm just gonna stay in the car," I protested...
"Now, Katie," my dad started, "there are a lot of pervs that hang around in parking lots and I wouldn't want you to grab one of them..."
My brother laughed, flaring his front teeth like a horse, and my dad grinned in clever pride.
I rolled my eyes and got out of the car. Probably slammed the door.
What can I say? These mix-ups happen. But notice! The father's always to blame.
