"Well, it was a bit overshadowed by Easter, honey," I explained. "(Or chocolate and candy, I thought.)
"But I wanted to get you something!" she exclaimed.
"Why don't you make me something? Get out your scissors and paper..."
"But I wanted to use my money!" And she stomped off towards home.
I watched her go, and was touched how upset she was. I let her run ahead the two blocks home, her arms stiff with fists and a look of determination plastered on her face. I was certain she would forget it all soon enough.
But later, I plunked facedown on our bed while Little Miss was "doing her hair" in the bathroom. She came over and started rubbing my back. "This will be my gift to you," she said to me, wriggling her little fingers along my spine.
"And that's just fine with me," I answered softly.
*****
I told this story to Mr. Man just the other night. I asked him when he thought I would get over my lousy birthday. "What does it say in the Bible about how long we should hold a grudge?" I gave him a crooked smile, knowing the truth.
Quickly, without looking up, he said, "Apparently 40 days."
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