Let Me Count the Ways...

Every once in a while the Wife will start crying and tell me I don't love her because I never buy her flowers, which is generally true, I suppose (not the not loving her part, but the not buying flowers, yes).

The problem with saying such things is that when you say them to someone like me who is all brain and no heart, I realize that I can't just go out and buy flowers for you now because the inherent value is not in the $50 bouquet of flowers that the shoppette can't seem to find at any cheaper a price, but in the loving thought that goes into wanting to purchase said bouquet of glorified dandelions. Having just been told that I'm a lousy person who doesn't care enough to bring home flowers even twice a week for the one and only person who makes my life bearable, going out and buying flowers is immediately disqualified as a means of showing my affections...which leaves me back at square one.

Every once in a while, however, I do get around to buying flowers of my own accord, even though in order to 'enjoy' them they have to be kept in closets so the cats don't eat them. Have I mentioned that her cats are developmentally disabled and/or generally indifferent to their own welfare? Boy do I love cats.

I prefer to buy plants with a little staying power so as to not be a complete monetary and hence logical black hole, meaning that the flowers I buy tend to come with complimentary dirt and somehow manage to last more than four days. Nobody around here can claim a particularly green thumb, but the Wife did have a bountiful patch of pansies out on the porch this summer. One of the plants that I brought home had these adorable little pink flowers, which immediately fell off in favor of thorns, then came back, then disappeared again.

Which brings me to the point of my post.

I noticed the other day that the thing seemed to be making a comeback (again) and commented as such to the wife:

"Our little plant seems to be bouncing back nicely."

To which she replied rather dryly and without hesitation: "I don't know if 'nicely' is the word I'd use. 'Oddly' maybe."

Which brings me to the real point of my post.

Usually I'm the one making her laugh uncontrollably, and often for things at which her sense of propriety tells her she really shouldn't be laughing.

But this time it was me laughing, and each time that happens, that one of us ends up laughing, not just humoring the other with a polite chuckle, but really laughing, I know that I'm with the right woman.

And that is a wonderful feeling.