"OMG! I totally LOVE Edward! He is so HOT!!"
"I LOVE my fancy-schmancy-cell phone/computer/superhero contacting device that Tracey doesn't have!"*
But real love isn't so pretty. Real love doesn't always sparkle in the meadow or shine in a window display. Real love means accepting sacrifice and pain all for the joy you can bring to your beloved's eyes...
Real love is something you feel for someone so special, you'd spend hours making them Lite Brite hearts in the dark...
Real love means slaving over the iron, dewrinkling 9 shirts for your husband, even when ironing is your least favorite thing to do in the world (even lower than cleaning the toilets and cat box).Real love is when your husband hears the PMS desperation in your voice after a long day of selling from your garage (We made $90 so far! Whoooot!!) and walks into the house with a box of Fannie May's raspberry creams....
~~
"Then you love me?!?"
"I suppose I do..."
"And I suppose I love you, too..." **
~~
*hint hint. I could really use a fancy-schmancy cell phone. With or without superhero contacting abilities....
**guess which character I was in that musical? Guess because I am seriously on a chocolate high and feel like finding out who else was a drama freak in high school...
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12 comments:
Golde?
Hope you get the phone. *Someone* should!
Oh! Sorry. I didn't sing that song. Golde did, yes. But I wasn't Golde. I had a much phlegmier name...
I clearly was not a drama geek because I don't even know where the musical reference is in this post. But its a great post. Love is me making dinner any night because I hate cooking :D
for 25 years I"ve cooked for you, and if that's not love then what is.
sunrise sunset...
Aww, that is definitely love dear. :)
I love that part of Fiddler on the Roof. Not a drama geek in high school but the daughter of a Broadway play addict.
Wow, that is real love. We could use you at our house. My husband and I are both good at putting laundry in the washer and dryer but the hold folding the clothes part we aren't very good at!
Love is a many splendid things. We love our children unconditionally. We love our jobs if they make us happy. We love our friends, sometimes. Great posts. I love my husband, children and close friends.
This is a wonderful post. Real love is cupping your hands under your kids mouth when they start to puke.
Ironing those shirts -- that's love indeed.
On that theme, I'll add: Love is hanging up golf shirts (wardrobe staple) so they don't shrink in the wash, even though this step always slows me down.
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