I was supposed to be a laptop, or so the story goes.
Valentines Day, such an arbitrary “holiday.” Hoomans! We don’t need a special day, a reminder, to show how much we love. We just do it every day. All day. No questions asked. Even when our hoomans aren’t that lovable.
I have heard the story, my “gotcha day” story, over and over again for years.
Daddy and the kids wanted to reward Momma for working so hard in school. Momma wanted to be a teacher. I’m not sure why she had to go to school to do this. She seemed like she was already a teacher.
One night in February, the phone rang and Corey answered. Whispers and giggles. Looks between Corey and Casey. Momma knew something was going on. She talked Corey into giving her a hint. She’s very good at this. Corey gave in and told her that her surprise was something that would keep her lap warm. Not very imaginative in her conclusion, Momma determined her reward was going to be a new laptop. She had been pounding the keys on the same ole laptop for years. To hear her tell the story, it must have been in pretty bad shape. She said she was always control, alt, deleting.
When telling “my story” she always says it felt like it took forever for Daddy to get home from work that night.
Just as the sun was setting, Momma, Daddy and the kids loaded up and headed out to get Momma’s surprise. You know, her laptop.
About 30 minutes later they pulled into a parking lot, lit only by security lights. They sat for a minute and then drove towards a station wagon. Momma was confused. Daddy and the kids were silent.
A lady popped out of the station wagon, waved and made her way to the back of her car. She opened the rear door and there I was. Well, me and all of my brother and sisters. We were nestled under a plaid blanket, tucked away in laundry basket.
As soon as I saw the four of them, I knew that I would love them until my dying day.