We at Waterman Manor watched the Giants win the Super Bowl, not that I ever get that excited about the game. I must admit that I enjoy watching the commercials. A few of the ads that aired during the game were thought provoking and several were hilarious.
The Teleflora commercial, however, was neither. It featured supermodel Adriana Lima snaking her lithe legs into black nylons, slipping into a little black dress, and tossing an appreciative glance at a large vase of roses. As she casts a smoldering look into the camera she purrs, “Guys, Valentine’s Day is not that complicated. Give and you shall receive!”
My British husband looked at me and exclaimed, “Well, that sounds rather medieval!” But it was my grandson who made us both proud when he observed, “Do they know that kids watch this game, too? That lady makes it sound like you have to give somebody things so they will love you. That’s just wrong!”
Ah, yes, my two funny Valentines and hearts of my heart are a 71-one-year-old Englishman who loves to sing silly music hall songs from another era, adores soccer, my bread pudding, good cigars, and smells of Acqua di Selva. The other is a 10-year-old boy who sings gustily along with his granddad, adores soccer, my bread pudding, Pokémon, and smells of Acqua di Selva rubbed lovingly on his face after the Brit splashes his own.
I must admit that while the Brit is growing older, as am I, the embers that light our fire never burn out. I’ll never forget how much I missed him when he spent two weeks in England, visiting his brother who was having heart surgery. When I got him home and the Mini-Brit was abed, I asked my handsome husband, “What’s your pleasure? A nice, hot bowl of soup or me?” Without hesitation he answered, “That depends, what kind of soup is it?” Ah, the romance is still as hot as that soup!
I also must admit that the Mini-Brit is getting older and taller. He is no longer so “mini” as I was recently reminded. Upon dropping him off at school I gave him my usual kiss and farewell, “Have a wonderful day and be the best little man you can be!” This time, instead of his usual, “I will, Grandma!” he turned, smiled, and said, “Grandma, I’m not so little anymore.” Heavy sigh.
But he’s right, so I asked him what I should call him now when I write about him. He pondered this for a while and then replied, “Well, I’m becoming a ‘tween’ because I’m between being a little kid and a teenager. So, call me Brit-Tween!” And so, until his next life passage, I shall. Farewell, my Mini-Brit and welcome my Brit-Tween!
It doesn’t take much to keep my funny Valentines happy. The Brit is easy to thrill with a homemade bread pudding and a bag of Twix candy bars. He loves the chocolate-covered caramel and that nice cookie crunch! So does the Brit-Tween, along with my matzoh ball soup, made from scratch. There’s nothing more edifying, after slicing veggies, pulling apart cooked chicken, and rolling sage-spiced matzoh balls in hands coated with olive oil, than to be covered with hugs and kisses, and told, “Oooh! You smell so good!”
Perhaps Miss Lima is right. For I have found that in the giving of myself, I have received so much in return. A gentle caress is always reciprocated, a kiss always returned with interest. A small gift of my time is met with timeless affection.
I recently took Brit-Tween to schule for his Hebrew class, leaving the Brit to watch his favorite team, Arsenal, play an important soccer match. He was in a right stew as the Gunners were down one goal at the half. Before leaving, I had put a bread pudding to bake in the oven. I figured if the Gunners lost, it would help console him; if they won, he’d celebrate with a piece. Either way, I’m golden.
I called him after the game and he waxed ecstatic about the outcome of the match. Then I asked him to check the oven and he found the bread pudding. “Oh, my God! The Gunners are going to the fifth round of the FA Cup and I’ve got a bread pudding!” he roared gleefully.
To borrow from Cleopatra, by way of The Bard, age cannot wither me, nor custom stale my infinite variety. Translation: I still have it when it comes to pleasing my men! So, how was your Valentine’s Day?
Every day is Valentine’s Day at Ariel Waterman’s house. Send Twix bars and Pokémon cards via her editor, Ryan Miller, at rmiller@satamariasun.com.
This article appears in Feb 9-16, 2012.
