I'm A Lucky Lady
Flyfour is one of those ridiculously romantic husbands, that according to my friends mean I'm a lucky lady because men like that actually only exist in romance novels, rom-com films, or catfish profiles on the internet. I have been accused several times of making him up and yet, they all seem to want to steal him off of me because of his romantic gestures.
Whenever we (my friends and I) get together for lunch or we meet up for a not coffee coffee, (well they have coffee, I have a Hot Chocolate or maybe some Fruit Tea) one of them will inevitably bring up something that they have read on Facebook, or seen pictured on Instagram or even something that was mentioned in our WhatsApp group and then they, mostly politely, request that I give them the details.
All the details.
No! Not those details, get your minds out of the gutter! This is a family blog!
The details they want are all the details about how Flyfour has been romantic and how it isn't big gestures like flying off to Paris or arranging for someone to serenade me with my favourite songs. Instead, the romantic things that he does are little things that constantly reconfirm that he loves me, that I'm his best friend, his confidant and that we are supposed to be together, forever.
The things can be silly, like how he teased me about what bed linen he was getting me for New Year's Eve.
How sometimes he wakes me up in the middle of the night to talk, just because.
How he sends me messages during the day whilst he is at work.
How he will buy me my favourite chocolate bar "just because".
How he goes for a supposedly boring walk around the supermarket, just because it is the only time we can get alone together and instead on more than one occasion we've almost got thrown out because we were having so much fun.
How he turns up at Church Primary events to help me out, just because I asked him.
How he made me Churros because we couldn't find anywhere that sold them.
How he finds podcasts that he thinks I'll enjoy and so plays them to me and doesn't complain that I miss half of it because I fall asleep before the end.
How he sits and watches TV shows with me, that he really isn't interested in, but he knows I want to watch it.
How he and I have little jokes and stories we can tell each other over and over, and still find them funny.
How he and I can start a seemingly random conversation halfway through, and still know what the other is talking about.
And at times, when I'm sitting there thinking how annoying he is, how he is only doing certain things to wind me up or because he knows that I'd never survive the life sentence in Prison I'd surely get for killing him, I try to remember these things, because dang if I don't love that man.
PS Yes this blog post was written when I wanted to kill him.
Whenever we (my friends and I) get together for lunch or we meet up for a not coffee coffee, (well they have coffee, I have a Hot Chocolate or maybe some Fruit Tea) one of them will inevitably bring up something that they have read on Facebook, or seen pictured on Instagram or even something that was mentioned in our WhatsApp group and then they, mostly politely, request that I give them the details.
All the details.
No! Not those details, get your minds out of the gutter! This is a family blog!
The details they want are all the details about how Flyfour has been romantic and how it isn't big gestures like flying off to Paris or arranging for someone to serenade me with my favourite songs. Instead, the romantic things that he does are little things that constantly reconfirm that he loves me, that I'm his best friend, his confidant and that we are supposed to be together, forever.
The things can be silly, like how he teased me about what bed linen he was getting me for New Year's Eve.
How sometimes he wakes me up in the middle of the night to talk, just because.
How he sends me messages during the day whilst he is at work.
How he will buy me my favourite chocolate bar "just because".
How he goes for a supposedly boring walk around the supermarket, just because it is the only time we can get alone together and instead on more than one occasion we've almost got thrown out because we were having so much fun.
How he turns up at Church Primary events to help me out, just because I asked him.
How he made me Churros because we couldn't find anywhere that sold them.
How he finds podcasts that he thinks I'll enjoy and so plays them to me and doesn't complain that I miss half of it because I fall asleep before the end.
How he sits and watches TV shows with me, that he really isn't interested in, but he knows I want to watch it.
How he and I have little jokes and stories we can tell each other over and over, and still find them funny.
How he and I can start a seemingly random conversation halfway through, and still know what the other is talking about.
And at times, when I'm sitting there thinking how annoying he is, how he is only doing certain things to wind me up or because he knows that I'd never survive the life sentence in Prison I'd surely get for killing him, I try to remember these things, because dang if I don't love that man.
PS Yes this blog post was written when I wanted to kill him.