Notes

I'm going to preface this post by saying that if you have difficulty reading sugary posts without vomiting, then it's best that you skip this one and wait until I find my next inspiration.

Stu and I like to leave each other notes.  When he was working overtime and I barely saw him for a couple of weeks, I used to hide notes in his lunch or the pocket of his jacket.  Just a few words to tell him that I was thinking of him, something to make him smile.  Sometimes we write each other notes about something ridiculous one of the cats has done, or we saw something that we reminded us of each other.  At the end of the day, when we write each other notes, it's just another form of communication, a way to strengthen our bond, an expression of love.

This morning I found a note on the kitchen counter (our bedroom is off the kitchen.)  P.S. We also have sickening nicknames for each other.  I'll give you a second to grab your barf bucket.

                                  Note 1:

                                                  Boo Bear

                                                  There's a note for you by the computer!!

                                                  *mwah*

                                 Note 2:

                                                 You found it! *mwah*

                                                 Boo Bear, there's a note by the t.v.

                                                 *mwah*

                                Note 3:

                                                 Good Girl!

                                                 Boo Bear! *mwah*

                                                 We have a new tv!

                                                 And I love you very, very, much.

                                                 xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

                                                 -Stu

I know, right? Normally this kind of saccharine outpouring of affection would make me vomit if I saw it happening on a sitcom or in a movie.  But somehow, when it's my husband, aka my best friend and soul mate, who is the one writing and leaving these notes, all I feel is loved.  And there was a huge smile on my face.

And the smile wasn't caused by the fact that we got a new 40", flat screen, LED, 1080p with internet hook-up for $185 (thanks to hording some gift cards and getting cash from parental units for Christmas for this very thing.)

I was smiling, because despite all the shitty stuff that Stu and I have endured over the years - and trust me, there's been a lot, he still does goofy, random things like this because he knows it will make me smile.                                          

 

Sharing is Caring

On Saturday Stu and I were supposed to go out with my best friend and her husband - two people that we both love.  Which is unsurprising, because my friends are awesome.  His, however... well, he may like his friends, usually I do not. 

Anyway.  That day, Stu woke up and told me that he wasn't feeling well.  I encouraged him to lie down and rest, hoping that he would feel up to going out by the time we had to leave.  But no.  Instead of resting, he decided to go and can tomatoes with my mother-in-law.  Firstly, he had plans with me.  Secondly, I didn't want his germs in my tomatoes.  Like the typical male he is, he ignored me and went up to his mother's.  Then he decided that he was too ill to go out.  (Which cause a domino effect of my best friend's husband then cancelling.)

Needless to say, I was not impressed.

Not only was he ditching me, but he potentially infected all the tomatoes with his germs.  Ick.

And then he gave them to me.  The germs that is.

When I told him I was sick on Monday with his germy cold, he told me that as my husband he was legally responsible to give half of what he owned to me. 

I glared at him.  He laughed.

Then I told him that I didn't forget things...ever.

He brought home dinner.  And made me tea.

And if I get sick because of infected tomatoes, I'm puking on his side of the bed.