Me, cold-hearted and steely eyed: You mean those chocolates I only make once a year at Christmas?
My baby, now with pleading hands: You didn't even let me help you make them at Christmas. Can we please make some chocolates for Valentine's. I just really, really, really, really love them, they're the best of all the chocolates. And want to spend time with you, because I love you so much.
Me, trying to remain distant, but feeling my resolve weaken: No, it's too much work. Plus, your hands get covered in chocolate, and it makes a mess of the kitchen. Do you really want to clean up the kitchen on Valentine's?
My baby, tears glistening at the edges of her eyes, and a sly smile spreading: Mama, I always wanted to learn. Don't you always say girls can do anything they want? That we're just as good as boys? Please teach me all your wise ways.
Me, breaking down into sobs: Alright, baby, alright! Of course, we can make chocolates even though they're a huge hassle and dirty every dish in the house. For you, anything.
My baby, turning to the side and exchanging a slick high-five with her older sister,who knows I can resist her ways with greater ease: Thanks mama! You're the best.
Me: Wait, what...
In my defense, this image was what was in my head... Yes, I have photographic proof of that one time I broke my baby's heart. And if you don't follow us on Instagram you didn't get to see our chocolate making fun back when it happened. So, check out the Instagram link down below.
Now, wish me luck that my kitchen and I make it out in one piece after tonight. It's not just my two girls, who are blessedly older, but also my three nieces ages 5, 7, and 10. Yup. Five little girls and a big batch of melted chocolate. What could go wrong?