Secret notes

Sometimes as moms we leave notes in our kids' lunch boxes or backpacks expressing our unconditional love. But when the tables are turned and we are the recipients of such sweet notes, all is right with the world.

This summer son and husband drove to South Dakota to visit and handle a few family affairs. Upon returning they had a pick-up truck load of some curious objects to be unpacked. Each time a trip is made to hubby's grandpa's house, grandpa feels the need to clean the garage and pass along no longer desired belongings. This is how we came to own a Smith-Corona electric typewriter (circa 1955?)...and it works perfectly fine.

"Mom, great-grandpa gave me my OWN typewriter!", Nick said with such enthusiasm. Nevermind that he is from a wired family and has had his own computer since age 2. I'm thinking to myself, "Great. Where am I going to put that?" Sigh.

But Nick had plans for his typewriter. He cleared a space in his room, plugged it in and asked for paper. Within minutes he was clickety-clacking along and produced a note that read, "I love you mommy. Love, Nicholas." It's hard to not hear him in his room on the typewriter, but it's a fun game to find notes he has hidden for me and hubby. Rolled up in a shoe, folded in my purse, and under the toothbrush holder.

I love our secret note exchange.