I sat on our couch one morning, my mind occupied by something mundane like e-mail or menu planning. The Bean crept up behind me and threw a piece of paper at me. I whirled around, prepared to confront him on the disrespectfulness of throwing things at his mother. Instead of being shame-faced, he was grinning shyly. As it turns out, this was his way of sending a love letter.

love-letter

I’ve been forming a mental picture of him, aged ten years or so, writing tender sonnets, then folding them into paper airplanes and launching them towards his Beloved. I hope she’ll find it as charming as his mother does.

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