Yesterday, I had an impression that I should write Gavin a love letter. As he's the quiet, laid back, no hassle one, I'm always looking for ways to show him extra love. I thought back to how I would have felt if my parents had left a handwritten note to me on my pillow, and imagined that it would have meant a lot and made it to the "save" box. I would probably have pulled it out several times throughout my youth and reflected on the fact that I was truly loved, even when so-and-so at school was being mean or I was grounded for missing curfew. So I opted to be late to tennis and write him the letter.
I stuck it on his pillow, and this morning asked him if he got it. A huge grin spread across his face, and I knew it had worked. Then...
"Why didn't you write ME a letter?"
"Why do you love HIM more than us?"
"What did GAVIN do to get a letter?"
I give up.
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