For Valentines Day, my children destroyed a perfectly good, unopened box of Kleenex. It was one of the sweetest things they've ever done for me.
They wrote special notes on the tissues. Each note is an incomplete sentence. (That's a hard lump of love for a writer mom to swallow.)
Then they wadded all the tissues together again and shoved them back into the Kleenex box. Every day that I can remember to do so, I pull a tissue from the box and read it.
This is today's message:
Believe me, I am as surprised as you are to learn that I put so much effort into making them "harry." I don't know how I do it.
But they appreciate it, and that's what counts with kids, I guess.