Although Z and I don't really celebrate Valentine's day (and I think would rather shoot ourselves than try to book a meal out), but we have recently got into the habit of writing over-the-top shmaltzy cards to each other, in both irony and affection, and I'm enjoying it hugely.
My latest offering was to compare my passion to "a rose dewy from pesticide" and to invite him to fall into a "botanical rapture" with me and his response was to talk of love that grows "like flowers in the garden of happiness". Long may this last.
And now for the latest installment of Raising Capricorn:
This morning I offered to give Matei a piece of chocolate if he let me cut his toenails, and he fixed me with a flinty stare and said :"Two. Pieces."
Yesterday we brought Z coffee in bed, and then M and I went to the kitchen to present him with a card of joint effort. I wrote a message and Matei got busy with felt-tips and scribbled what a generous spirit might call a grey helicopter with pink rotor blades. Since there was still quite a lot of space on the card left, I asked him if he wanted to put something else and he studied this drawing for a second and then shook his head gravelly and said:
"No. It is done". As though he were Picasso and an extra squiggle might throw off the balance of the piece.
I enjoy this child enormously and highly reccomend him.