He sits there fidgeting with playdoh. Normally it would drive me mad. But today it seems I have some left over patience from yesterday. I smile and take it from him.
“Let me make something”, I say. “ And while I make something, you will write”.
He doesn’t write, but watches me , as I mold the red colored clay to a little rose flower.As it nears completion, he asks me, “Is it for Appa, for Valentine’s?”
“No”, I say, “It’s for you! You are my Valentine!”
“Not for me.. I am too young!”, he shies away.
“You know, Love is not only romantic. Love is maternal too”, I say. “And you are my sweetheart”
He is happy now, and takes my rose. I get the gift of a peck on my cheek.
And we resume writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment