when he might like to quaft just a smidgen more

He wouldn't give valentines at all if I didn't make him.  One day, four or so years ago, he asked to be excused from making some colorful glue-filled cut-out with the words -

Me don't 'ike to quaft.

And he ran off to play.

But I make him.  I don't believe it's necessarily necessary for him.  I'm not afraid he'll find himself lost one day on this great big planet with no friends because he wouldn't valentine gift.  His writing needs improvement and his scissor skills lack some, but will making thirty valentines form a Hemingway or a Meirs?

But I make him and we fold tinfoil and pull duct tape too sticky from the sun beating the dash all those days I looked at it and decided not to bring it in and we laugh when we both want to fold the last piece over and I pretend let him win.  It takes us both to pull the tape and he says -

We should do this more often.  We make a good team.

And there are no words lacking ending or beginning blends or shortened vowels or double l's.  But there is snaggletooth lisp and I kiss his nose and don't have to pretend to not be able to pull the tape hard enough.

And he helps.  He slices with the cutter and cuts the string and doesn't complain this year about writing his name so many times.  But he won't draw a heart or write the word from.

 

But saying we make a good team?  Wow.  What a compliment from my not-so-crafty valentine.  Because, well, you know - love is a battlefield.

a special thanks to Tia @ events to celebrate and Jamie @ creating really awesome free things for the free valentine print outs

I'm Whispering In Your Ear . . .

I'm tapping you on the shoulder.

I'm whispering in your ear.

I'm looking you right in the eye

and

telling 

you

Jesus wants you to be His valentine.

He wants you to love Him with all of your heart and soul.

 With all of your mind

and with all of your strength.

And

in

return

He will take your soul

and rescue it.

And

you

will

have

love

for

an

eternity.