I started out writing a post yesterday afternoon about how much I disliked celebrating Valentine’s Day. And while that still remains true, I think this post is far less "soap-boxy" and far more "me." But for the record, I am not a fan of Valentine's Day.
Scott and I are not very affectionate out in public. We will occasionally hold hands, maybe give a quick peck on the cheek. We are, however, very affectionate at home. We snuggle on the couch, we kiss in the kitchen, and we hold hands at the table.
As Scott and I were saying goodnight last night (he goes to be bed way before me) we were smooching…NOT sucking face, playing tonsil hockey or anything that would normally take place in the bedroom – just affectionately kissing and hugging each other in the kitchen.
Ashleigh yelled out from the living room, “Could you please kiss quieter?”
To which both Scott and I burst out laughing and then kissed, smacking our lips together as loudly and as exaggeratedly as we could. Because, of course! Ashleigh stomped into the kitchen.
“Really?” she asked glaring at us. “I mean really! You’re worse than teenagers!”
Had seven KGB agents burst into the house demanding microfilm that was smuggled into our backpacks, we still wouldn’t have been able to stop laughing. Scott, trying so very hard not to laugh, leaned down and kissed me again.
“UGH! Get. A. Room!” She said and stomped into the dining room. “Why can’t you be normal like other parents?”
Still giggling, Scott and I went down the hall into our bedroom and once again kissed loudly.
“I can still hear you!”
“But we got a room,” Scott replied evenly.
Ashleigh followed us down the hall and pulled out door closed.
“You are so annoying!”
Happy Valentine’s Day to you and yours!