I woke up this morning to find that my hub, the Center of the Universe, was already out of bed. I padded to his study, where I was confident that I would find him at the computer. He was there, and we shared a “Good-morning-Happy-Valentine’s-Day” hug to start the day.
I took his hand and led him back to bed for just a little G-rated spooning. We talked about how many years we’ve been together (almost 15!) and all the lovely Valentine’s Days that we’ve shared. I saw that he had left two big envelopes on the nightstand for me, and I dug out the two I’d secreted away for him inside my library book. (Nerd!)
We laughed, we talked, we shared some kisses. Then he said what I’d been waiting to hear: “This is sickening—we better start a fight soon.”
I laughed and asked him if we could have just ten more minutes of sweetness. He acquiesced, but made it clear that I’d have to make it up to him, somehow.
“So,” he asked, “what do you want to fight about?”
“Hey, it’s Valentine’s Day,” I said. “You pick.”
“Well,” he mused, “usually it falls into one of two categories: something I did, or something I didn’t do.”
“Wait a second,” I countered. “More of our fights are about you criticizing me, or finding fault with what I did.”
Hm… without even trying, we were on the cusp of a good fight. Topic: What do we fight about.
I swear, you just can’t make this stuff up.