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?
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...