Roses

We had a great Valentine's dinner yesterday, a day early since the professor will be teaching tonight. I made a turkey, one of his favorites, and we ate by candlelight, all six of us. It was quite funny because the turkey was done way sooner than I had expected, so we had to close all the blinds in order to experience the candles. Afterwards we had FHE and we made secret valentines for each other that said one thing we loved about them on it. It was fun to wake up this morning and have the kids scrambling to pass them out with eager excitement at 5:30am.

Now you might think, aww, what a cute way to spend the holiday. And it was. But part of me is wishing I hadn't told my husband not to worry about getting me anything or doing anything. I won't be disappointed, because we're a little beyond that point in our marriage. There used to be a time when I would expect some sort of lavish display of his affection. Now I know he loves me, even without the jewelry and cards and fancy dinners at expensive restaurants.

But I love flowers, as impractical as they are. I love how they look on my table, especially red roses in a tall vase. I love the fragrance that fills my home. I might just go out and buy some for myself. Or maybe I'll tell him they're for him, from me. The best part is, he'd understand.