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Last week I had the opportunity to read a blog at Cranberry Corner. Jenna's story really touched me and has stuck with me this week. Maybe because I finished the book and am looking at my family and admiring them again, but pondering her theme of finding love I was reminded of something Tristi Pinkston said a few years ago.
We were talking about romance on the LDStorymakers e-mail list and she said her idea of romance was different than most people's. Flowers and stuff like that didn't do much for her, but now and then her hubby would let her sleep in on Saturday morning and go get her a McDonald's breakfast because he knew she loved it. For her, THAT was romance. I couldn't agree more (though I like flowers too) and this morning all of this came flooding back to me as I was gagging while holding the bag for my hunny-bunny to dump the dead skunk in.
It's our second dead skunk in a week, and dang but do they stink! I really like skunks--from a distance. I don't want to trap and kill them--killing and trapping is for the raccoons--but we keep catching skunks and Animal control does not come out for skunks in our county so it is up to us. Here's where the romance comes in, though that's probably not the right word, but it's definitely love.
My husband does not think skunks are cute, nor chickens either. The chickens are my idea, my passion, but he loves me so he puts up with it. And it's because of chickens that we have raccoons, which is why I bought the trap. He could say that because the chickens and traps and raccoons are my buisness, the skunks are too, but he doesn't. Instead he dresses up like the unabomber and goes takes care of them so I don't have to, then, this morning, in his dress clothes no less (he'd forgotten we still needed to dispose before he left for work) he picks up the stinky trap to dump the skunk in the bag. And as I'm dry heaving, he offers to take it to the dumpster at work instead of putting it in our household garbage can (we did that with last week's skunk--Baaaaaaaad idea--though I feel sorry for the people at the office building).
Through it all, he does not berate me about having to do something so awful, he doesn't complain at all(in part because he thinks I make funny faces)--and that, in my book, is love. He loves me enough to deal with dead skunks. To top it off, later today as I'm running errands in the city he works in, he calls and offers to do take out at our favorite sushi place so I can meet him for five whole minutes and we can eat together. So, I did. We sat in the back seat of the minivan with our five year old and ate sushi until I had to take the five-year old to kindergarten.
The date nights are great, and getting flowers makes my day, but when he tunes the radio to my favorite station, even though he'd choose Hinder over the Eagles any day, or he offers to pick up Arby's on the way home (again) because I told him I HAD to get a scene written, I'm reminded why I married this guy, why he's my moon, sun, and stars. These are things that make my heart thump.
So, outside of candy and chocolates and snuggling on the couch, I want to know the non-traditional things you're Sweety does to show you he (or she, though very few men read/comment on this blog) loves you. Or, if he's a lump and doesn't do nice things, what do you hope your next husband does?