ahem...a poem to my love:
Husband. Oh husband. Today we celebrate our timeless love.
Streams of affection flowing from our hearts,
finding refuge in our wedded bond.
How can we express the depth of our feeling?
How can we share our
passion and zeal?
But wait! Upon pursuing such words, I recalled something true:
You hate this mushy stuff.
And for that matter...
...so do I.
When the rest of the world is spilling out sonnets and sweet nothings,
we would rather just get to the point...
...say what we mean
...without all the frills.
And what, dear husband, do we mean?
Just this: that true love involves the day-in-and-out
Like when I buy swiss cheese even though I hate it
because I know you like those creepy round holes
And when you make sure that we have enough toilet paper
to last through the Apocalypse
in case--just in case--the tissue supply runs dry.
Or like when you nag me to get my oil changed
for a month
(seriously--I heard you. I’ll get around to it when I can!)
Or tolerate my mild obsession for pillows
with only a few complaints
Oh husband, dear husband--you didn’t even say anything
when I accidentally dyed our pillow shams pink
...Or spray-painted your air compressor with metallic rose glitter.
...Or painted the cabinets white when you went out of town.
...Or got that expensive speeding ticket last October....
(oh wait...you did say something about that...)
Husband, dear husband, words are just not enough
to tell of our love.
Perhaps an apology for all of the errant painting...
...might begin to do it justice.
P.S. I know you’re at WalMart right now buying me chocolate. You’ve waited a bit late for that, don’t you think? I mean, Valentines Day officially started hours ago...
Oh...and while you’re there can you pick up some milk and a bottle of mouthwash? Thanks.