(These pictures are in no semblance of order to go with the words, but you can puzzle them together:)
Sometimes nights like what we had on Valentine’s night are magical to me.
And it wasn’t because we did anything fancy.
It was just a regular old night where I was so busied with all the Relief Society texts I was sending out (I had been out of town the week before and wanted so much to give some extra love to those women I love, so I texted all of them a little message) that I didn’t start on our heart-shaped valentine’s pizzas until late, then I couldn’t find the yeast.
Or the cheese.
Or the pesto.
Or corn meal.
Off to a bad start.
But everyone was in the kitchen with me talking and laughing. Dave and Claire doing the “gotta get something from downstairs” mime, Lucy helping shape the dough, the fresh mozzarella cheese I found in the freezer melted all over the microwave and dripped down the counter as I tried to defrost it. Claire and Lucy dancing to what Siri calls “valentine’s songs” at Claire’s request.
Our pizza dough all stuck to the counter and didn’t end up having any real semblance of hearts.
We ate and then cleaned up, all together, with the Moana soundtrack playing loud, the parts that I forgot about “I know who I am” and “those who have gone before” and “I’ve got everything I need inside” that made me tear up as I put away the make-shift valentines stuff I whipped up last night and Claire and I smiled at each other as she did the dishes and sang along with the words.
Claire explaining all about bringing Bo to school for her “senior prank,” (they didn’t let the kids with pets in the school but everyone had a grand time in the parking lot for a little).
Yes, it was just a regular, ordinary night. But it was a night where we were PRESENT. And TOGETHER. And that, to me, is the best Valentine gift you can get.