Valentines Day

I have been under the misconception that I am loved by all. Not so. While helping with my daughter’s Valentine party at school, I came to the realization that perhaps the notion that I am someone of importance was shattered. My job was to help the students with a matching game. After which they moved on to the next stations where they played bingo, made a card for their parents, and decorated a sugar cookie in the shape of a heart.
I was charming, I was entertaining, I was something of a celebrity mom. I sat in a chair at one of the student desks supervising the festivities everyone laughing and enjoying themselves, when a boy that had been in the group before approached, a cookie decorated with every square inch in candies and icing. He cupped it in his hands ever so carefully and held it out as he drew nearer. Well, I was flattered to say the least, a fourth grader courteous enough to remember me, little old me, who had helped him with his Valentines matching game.
“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” I bragged. “But you should keep it for yourself. I’ll just take one of these candies and you eat the rest.” With that I plucked a candied heart from atop the mound of icing he had used to decorate his cookie with and popped it into my mouth. He seemed a little upset. Perhaps I had offended him in not accepting his offer. “You’re sitting in my chair,” he said, pulling the cookie in closer to protect it from me. “Could I have my desk back?” As it turns out, the heart shaped cookie was not meant for me. Luckily I was forgiven for taking the candy, but I’m sure that poor kid will not forget me for some time, the old lady that took his chair and his candied heart, right off the top of the cookie he had so diligently decorated for himself.