It’s raining.

My husband was late for work, and ran out the door without kissing me goodbye.

My youngest woke up with a high fever, one day after her older sister finally got over her fever.

I haven’t gone grocery shopping, so we’ve been subsisting on grilled cheeses and fast food since both girls were sent home sick from school five days ago.

Oh. And it’s Valentine’s Day.

My oldest woke up with a headache, but no fever, so she insisted upon going to school so as not to miss her class party. We’ll see how that goes.

After she got on the bus, I bundled up my feverish preschooler, and drove to drop off the elaborate, homemade Valentines my kindergartner had made for her class.

I realized that this was only the second time I’ve left the house since Friday.

It’s Wednesday.

As my sick kid complained from the backseat, I decided that this crap morning deserved some drive thru breakfast. (And fried food almost always improves her attitude.)

I ordered my sandwich and hash brown, and pulled around to pay. As the cashier was handing me my change, a drop of rain dripped off his jacket sleeve. Poor guy. Stuck near an open window. In the rain. In the cold.

And it’s Valentine’s Day.

“Thanks,” I paused, and flashed him a smile, “and happy Valentine’s Day!”

His face brightened. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too! What a smile! It must be a good day today, huh?”

And I thought.

About the hot food I’ll soon be eating while watching cartoons with my daughter.

About the modern medicine that we can afford and get with ease, that will soon be soothing her achy body.

About how my husband sat in bed too long this morning, holding her hot, feverish body (making himself late for work) while I made lunch for our oldest.

About my creative daughter, who picked out a Valentine’s craft for her class and worked so hard this weekend–even with a fever–to finish them all for her friends.

About our refrigerator and pantry, both stuffed with food. I can’t make a special Valentine’s dinner for my family and friends as I had planned, but I can make loads of yummy meals, without ever visiting the store.

About my family, calling and texting me all week to check in on how the girls were feeling.

And I looked over at this dripping wet fast food worker. And I smiled.

“Well, you know what? It is a pretty good day.”

Happy Valentine’s Day, friends.

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