Something’s going on with my husband. Part of what made me fall in love with him to begin with and what keeps me falling in love with him again and again is the virtue he possesses. If there was ever a man who could be counted on to do what’s right, to work like hell, to ride in as a knight on a charger and rescue me, it’s him. So, why does he keep kidnapping me?
He did it for our 10th anniversary. Arranged dog sitting, kid sitting, packed a bag for me and wooed me with dinner and a concert and a night in a posh hotel. And this year, he did it again. Yesterday we were eating lunch at his parents. He asked me if I was finished, and when I replied in the affirmative, he said, “Well then, say, ‘Good-bye kids, I’ll see you tomorrow.'”
14 years. It seems like forever and a moment all at once. Each moment new and adventurous and yet familiar and comforting.
The kids had a sleepover, and we had a riot. We started by gassing up in Luxembourg (where gas is cheaper), swung through Trier where we took advantage of the SSV (end of summer sales) to get some swank new clothes, drove along the Mosel and were chased away from our picturesque destination by a gusting storm, ate pizza at 9pm, strolled lover-like along the Lieser, played a board game, and took shameless advantage of each other.
I can’t believe he surprised me again. It’s probably my turn to think up something for next year. Probably something surprising.
(Thank you, Rainer. For every little thing.)