Front Porch: Valentine’s celebration let the air out of the room

My husband and I have reached the time of life when downsizing seems prudent. No, I’m not talking about selling our home or offloading possessions, I’m talking about reducing our waistlines.

Keeping track of things like blood sugar looms ever more important as we age. That’s why, when Valentine’s Day approached, I suggested we skip the usual exchange of chocolates.

Derek agreed, but I could tell by the twinkle in his eye he had something else in mind. More on that in a minute.

We’re in our second year as empty-nesters, and we continue to adapt.

During the years our sons lived at home, Valentine’s morning was special. They awoke to a lace-topped table filled with heart-shaped dishes of cinnamon, cherry and conversation heart candies. A card and a box of chocolates waited at each place and, when they opened the refrigerator, they discovered that Cupid had magically turned the milk pink.

Even after the older boys moved out, they stopped by to get their cards, candy and hugs from Mom. With the departure of our youngest last year, for the first time in 25-plus years, Cupid skipped our frig, and the heart-shaped dishes and lace tablecloth remained tucked away.

We were back to where it began – just the two of us.

That’s not to say our first Valentine’s Day as man and wife was especially romantic, but it was certainly memorable.

As newlyweds, we attended college full time and worked three jobs between the two of us to keep our Love Boat afloat. I knew we couldn’t afford to go out on Valentine’s Day, but I did my best to make it special.

When Derek arrived home late on that fateful Feb. 14, I’d roasted two tiny Cornish game hens with potatoes and herbs and set our wobbly card table with a vinyl cloth and our wedding gift stoneware. I’d placed a small box of chocolates and a red-enveloped card at his place.

“This looks nice,” he said, kissing me.

Then he noticed the card and heart-shaped box.

“Oh! It’s Valentine’s Day?”

At that, I burst into tears, ran the six steps to our bedroom and collapsed on our waterbed, heartbroken.

“Don’t cry! I’m sorry I forgot! I’ll be right back!” Derek yelled, slamming the apartment door behind him.

I was still face-down on our now-soggy bed when he returned.

He switched on the bedroom light and announced, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Babe!”

Sniffling, I sat up.

That’s when he thrust a helium-filled balloon into my hand. I tugged the attached ribbon, looking for the card.

There was no card.

No candy.

No flowers.

Just a Pepto Bismol-pink balloon.

Our waterbed got even waterier. My bewildered and exhausted husband went back out and returned with a card. We ate cold game hen and potatoes and made up the way newlyweds do.

Our sons know this story well, as I’ve shared it as a cautionary tale (future daughter-in-laws will thank me.)

Yet this year, when I suggested skipping the exchange of chocolates on Valentine’s Day, Derek nodded.

“But balloons are OK, right?” he asked.

Bed-making feedback

Readers weighed in on my previous column about the importance of making your bed each morning and how much easier it is with properly fitting bedding.

Daniel Lennon penned a bed-making ode centered on the thought that making a bed is a way of letting go of the woes of the day before and welcoming the opportunity to start anew.

Patty Conway and Cindy Matthews both recommended purchasing a king-size blanket and bedspread to ensure ample coverage for all. I’m going to keep that in mind for next time.

And Lynne Zsyk offered a harrowing tale that should make those who don’t make the bed think twice.

“A few years ago my whole neighborhood was able to view my made bed when a driver crashed into our house,” she wrote. “As you can imagine, it was quite a surprising call to receive at work that a car was in our bedroom! Fortunately, no one was hurt. And we have a new family adage, ‘Always make your bed because you never know when someone might drive into your bedroom.’ ”

Cindy Hval can be reached at dchval@juno.com. Hval is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories from the Greatest Generation” (Casemate Publishers, 2015) available at Auntie’s Bookstore and bookstores nationwide.