Oh no! I'm running low on ideas for right now. This is just to tide you guys over until I think of something. Enjoy!
I sat on one of the high stools in our kitchen, a pen in hand and paper strewn everywhere on the counters. I'd found a bunch of old scrap paper in the playroom, and Mommy was even letting me use her special scented markers. She knew this had to be perfect and really special.
Valentine's Day was on Monday and I'd already filled out the normal cards that you gave to everyone, the ones that my dad says are "cheap and tacky and straight up dumb." I agreed with him, even though I didn't know what tacky meant. I know all about tacky glue, though. Matt tried to eat it once, but he got sent to the nurse.
Mommy had helped me cut out a two hearts, a big red on and a smaller pink one. I'd also desorated it with tiny drawn hearts and a couple of stickers my mommy doesn't know I know about. I was really excited to get there on Monday with my mailbox and my cards, especially this one. This one was extra special. I just had to figure out what to write.
"I think you are really pretty," I spoke out loud as I wrote it. "You are the prettiest girl in the whole wide world."
I heard the front door open and close and my dad hang his holster on the hook where he always kept it. Then he came into the kitchen. I didn't look up, but I knew he was watching me while he got a beer out of the fridge.
"What's that?" he asked.
"A card," I said, still trying to figure out what else to write. I draw a few more hearts around the border instead, very aware that my dad is watching over my shoulder. I usually don't mind, but sometimes I wish he wouldn't. I felt awkward making the card in front of him, like when Miss Tibby watches me doing my math.
"Stuck for words?" he asks. I feel my cheeks heat up as I nod and look up to him.
"I don't know what else to say," I admit. "I can't think of anything."
"Well, she must be really special then," he commented. "Maybe you should write that you'd like to call her some time. Write that." I nodded and did what he said, making sure I spelled it correctly. Or at least how I thought it was spelled.
"What's her name?" he asked next. "You should make sure you put her name on it, real big so she can't miss it. You know how mom does that calligraphy with the big loops and swirls? Try that." I had to admit, he had good ideas.
I almost touched the marker to the paper, but looked up at him instead. "Can you do it?" I asked, holding the marker out to him. He looked surprised for a minute, then took it from me.
"Sure, sure," he said. "What's her name, and how do you spell it?" My eyes got really big as I realized something.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, son?"
"I don't know how to spell Mansingh."