Today I made a pilgramage to Pearson airport, too see Thom off on his flight, and deliver his birthday present, his christmas present, and also a small container of 1950's appetizers.
Prunes stuffed with peanut butter, wrapped in bacon - now that is my love language. The thought had to be the thing that counted, though, since Thom's stomach was in no mood to accept even the most wholesome and postmodern food, let alone mine. I gave it to some hungover kids instead...apparently, they were the best thing to happen to them today so far. Score one for 50's housewives.
I think that saying goodbye and giving him these tiny, handmade packages with "November 18th" and "December 25th" written on them shone some light on the meaning of "token of my affection"- because if I tried to cram the affection in a box, I can guarantee it wouldn't fit in carry-on.
Thom gets a hand heart from me.
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