This is the day after Valentine’s Day and if

you forgot about it and think it’s OK to skip it,

it’s not. At the very least, get a piece of paper

and pencil a note to that lover – using endearing

words. Keep it all in perspective though. If

you forgot candy or flowers, don’t make crazy

promises out of guilt. That would be allowing

your emotions to overpower your intelligence,

which in my case, is an easy stride across the

threshold.

It’s not too late to take each other to dinner.

I say “each other” because why is it always

advertised that the man has to do the asking?

It doesn’t have to be an expensive place but

it does have to have a quiet corner. Don’t be

going to a sports bar for a romantic dinner –

no matter what team is playing. And here’s

a really crazy notion. Put your phone in your

pocket, not on the table, even face down. Nothing

is that pressing and in case you didn’t realize

it, in that two hours with your sweetheart,

very little will happen that’s significant. Don’t

believe me, just remember, a lot happened before

you were born and you didn’t know about

it, so you’ll be OK during this date.

If you have children, I understand the babysitter

needs to be able to contact you, but lay

down some guidelines such as I used to when

our brood was home. If the child isn’t unconscious,

it can probably wait. If it’s an artery

that’s severed and blood is visibly squirting,

well, call 911. That’s why we have them. Really

though, what are the odds? Most kids get

bumps, bruises and mashed fingers while dad

and mom are out to dinner – this brings us to

selecting a babysitter. If the kids aren’t babies,

they don’t need a sitter, they need a keeper;

someone who can referee the tussles and decide

who gets the timeout and who gets a highfive.

I wouldn’t recommend dodge ball in the

house, but jumping the sofa shouldn’t be off

limits. How many legs can they break?

When it came to our children and childcare,

my thoughts were in parallel to Erma

Bombeck’s. When asked what she’d save if

the house was on fire, she replied, “My list of

babysitters.”

Those sitters are worth a lot but they aren’t

paid a lot because they’re naive and don’t realize

their value. Savor this time. There will

come a day when they age a bit, then figure

it out and you’ll be looking for a new sitter

who’s young and eager.

There’s a new trend in hiring sitters. I guess

it’s new. When our kids were small, we just

snagged whoever would be willing to put

themselves on a list. We didn’t consider an ax

murderer might be a teenager. Now mothers

do interviews for prospective childcare workers.

If I’d have done that, it would have been

simple. 1. Can you babysit Friday? 2. Are you

a heroin addict? That’s not a deal breaker if

you are.

As for Valentines, I love Gar, I realize he

works hard, and I don’t expect him to always

jump through hoops for me like a trained

seal. The fact that he makes the bed gives me

a heart-thumping thrill. He also brings his

dishes to the kitchen and then does something

magnificent –he puts his plate and cutlery in

the dishwasher. This wasn’t always the case.

Newlyweds have no idea how much training

and teaching takes place in the first couple

of years. The little things mean a lot and he

doesn’t have to wine and dine me every Friday

night, but I do appreciate when he remembers

how much I’m worth, and to be truthful,

he never forgets, because I remind him daily.

Gar usually gives me sweet, hand-written

cards, but one year he brought me an expensive,

heart-shaped box, decorated in red cellophane

with velvet ribbon. I guessed it was

candy and by the looks of the prestigious case,

I could hardly wait to tear it open. When I

pulled the top off, I paused. Inside was a

small plastic bag containing six, tiny, red

hearts. They were fruit chews, like gummy

bears. Gar, thinking they were chocolates,

scrutinized the box’s contents in bewilderment.

When he told me how much they cost,

we both burst into great guffaws of raucous

laughter. It was funny then and it’s still funny

now. My sweetheart makes me laugh; what’s

not to love?

Contact Trena Eiden at trenaid@hotmail.

com.