As I've repeatedly informed her, her DAD is her only Valentine and it will remain that way until she reaches the age of 30 or I kick the bucket. Whichever comes first.
Thankfully, she doesn't actually like this little home wrecker and I'm really hoping her and the Red Sox fanatic who wears at LEAST one piece of Red Sox clothing each day make a Love Connection. Only like I said, when she's older and I've, you know, expired.
Every day it seems like a little bit of my baby girl leaves and a small part of the young lady she's turning into takes it's place. Seems like yesterday I was rocking her to sleep and today she's whispering on the phone to her friends, going to Valentine dances at school, and turning her Dad into a blubbering mess.
Funny: none of the parenting books Ang made me read ever said anything about how to deal with my little Princess breaking my heart. Miss Joplin may have been singing about something else, but this Dad can empathize with those lyrics.
At least there is one thing that can take some of the sting away when I get slapped in the face with the reality my baby girl is growing up, and there isn't a freaking thing I can do about it.
Like some 4th dimension of 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon, it all comes back to baseball.
It's the circle of life.