I'm one of those irritating women who really loves her husband. Chris and I married young--only a month after I finished school--and we spent the first year of our life together in kind of an extended childhood. We spent evenings at the pool and went to the beach in the afternoon. On weekends we drove to a shop where they kept rattlesnakes in cages and where they sold the best fudge you could find for miles around. When it was windy, we flew kites. When it was breezy, we rode bikes. We lived in a tiny apartment. Together, we arranged boxes of flowers on our balcony. We bought a kitten. One night, we discovered Thai food. Often, we stayed home and I made pizza. Once a week, Chris carried our sacks of clothes out to the laundry. He taught me to play tennis. Sometimes, we abandoned our rackets and just ran. The fields were wide around us; the flowers were in bloom and the birds sent out a constant cacophony of sound. Chris and I were young, and we were happy.
More than seven years later, we might be less playful, but we're just as happy. He even finds ways to surprise me once in awhile.
It's not that he sometimes comes home with flowers,
or even that he's affectionate with our children,
instead, it's moments like this one: While her daddy was in Greece, Katherine labored over a present for him. The result? A handmade invitation to "movie night," a surprise daddy-daughter date for when he got home. She was so excited, and of course Chris accepted. I finally wrangled my own inviation out of her and, since Chris was only going to be home for one night, we decided to hold our first official movie night as soon as Penelope went to bed. Chris let Katherine pick the show. He even took her to the store for a bag of candy and afterward he popped popcorn on the stove. Then, cuddled up on the couch for his hour-long hit of Disney, Chris laughed at the appropriate moments and sang along with the catchiest songs. We were really having fun, so it wasn't until later--when both the kids were in bed and I saw Chris settle back onto the couch with an ice-cold beer--that I realized what had happened. Without a word of complaint (and on his one night off during a long two weeks of work), he spent football night watching Disney.
And that is why I love that man.