Last night I was struggling with feeling loved, accepted, and even just basically liked at all (long and stupid story). Then, I heard the doorbell ring. Although it wasn't super late, I certainly was not expecting any visitors. I went downstairs to answer the door and no one was there. I had been doorbell ditched! But to my surprise, and a lovely one at that, my house had been heart-attacked.
|The Heart Attack included this poster, a string of hearts hanging above from one end of the porch to the other, with window clings and paper hearts all over the railing.|
I just want to thank the guilty parties for showing love to us in such a demonstrative way. The children felt like rockstars, and I was reminded that people do like me and to stop being so ridiculously mournful (even if only for as long as it takes to enjoy some of those fabulous cherry cordial m&ms hiding in the mix). I am pretty sure the gesture was intended more for my children, yet it meant a lot to me. There was no way these doorbell ditchers could have known the depth of my sadness at that moment, yet they came just in time. Thank you for being so sweet.