So who got the Valentine?

Who got the Valentine's Card in our house?

Was it me?

No, although my lovely husband cooked me a splendid dinner. I spent the day ferrying my children to their grandparents (a three hour train journey each way). I read a lot of my book...

Was it my husband?

No, I'm pretty hopeless and unromantic. But I did buy him some jelly babies (two of which he presented to me in a curtain ring when he proposed all those years ago, so maybe I have a hint of romance in my bones.)

Was it my seven-year-old daughter?

No. The most beautiful girl on the planet but really, really too young.

Was it my nine-year-old son?

YES!

Some girl spent a lot of time preparing this beautiful card, covered in hearts, some cut out of tissue and coloured paper. Was it the girl I saw running away from his friend's house, having put a red envelope through the letterbox? Was it a girl from his birthday party? Worse - was it the sister of a girl from the birthday party winding them both up?

He doesn't know, so I guess I'll never know. He also doesn't seem too bothered. In contrast, I'm on edge! I can't believe he's old enough for receiving Valentine's cards, and I'm quite sure I'm not ready for any emotional complications.

Thank goodness we'd had that little chat about concubines...