When I think about my love life I think of…nothing. Translation: It might happen, someday and if not I won’t lose hairs. For the first few years after my divorce, my parents assured me that I was going to find a nice man, have a few more kids, and drive a mini-van into my suburban garage where I lived with my typical family. Today, I finally got the impression that my mother is giving up hope of more red-headed grand babies.
I may have mentioned before, but if not, my mother is a professional care package sender. I get a box, at least once a month with food items, toiletries, coupons out of the Sunday paper etc. My mother is also a believer in sending out gifts for every holiday. This includes the upcoming Valentine’s Day. I can count on one finger the times I have spent on an actual Valentine’s Day, spent with a boyfriend or husband in a Valentine’s Day manner…and I was 18. Yes, the special boy who gave me a teddy bear and a giant cookie with frosting spelling out his feelings that only lasted another week or so.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not a V-Day hater. Some people love it, and I don’t begrudge them their special relationship with the holiday. And if someday, I am with some one who wants to make it a special day for me and I for them, I will welcome it.
Back to the care package. I got some tea, Macaroni and cheese, soup, brownies, and a special product called “Magical Grow a Frog to Prince.” Whee! My mom actually thought of ME when she saw this sitting on the shelf. Thanks Mommy! All I must do is add water to the jar with a frog inside and out will pop my dashing prince. The box says the process takes 72 hours, so if I am going to get my royal man by Saturday, I better soak the frog today.
Here he is at zero hour: