Thursday, August 4, 2011

Best. Husband. EVAR.

And he looks like Patrick Dempsey.

Not Husband.

Apparently I'm the only one who sees it though...which is fine with me. Homie don't need no hoes all up on my mans. Ahem. Sorry. I don't know what came over me.

Anyway, so the story goes like this. Moi, being the working girl/domestic goddess that I am (roll came home from a grueling 4-hour shift and immediately set to task a number of household duties that had since been neglected. Cooking, cleaning, laundry. I'm sure you can just imagine the state of things. A few hours later, Husband came home to a very busy wife doing very busy wifely things for which he seems to sincerely appreciate. Even if that appreciation comes at the oddest moments. Like the mid-dishwashing hug from behind. No one likes the mid-dishwashing hug from behind. Someone else mentioned it not too long ago in a very relatable and likely hilarious post. Was it Confessions of a Corn Fed Girl (?) or maybe Stumbling Towards Perfect? Someone help me out. I'll edit if I'm off base.

Uh...where was I?

Oh yeah, domestic nonsense. Right. I had put a Harry Potter movie on the laptop for some background noise and at some point left the apartment to get the laundry in the creepy storage room. You know, where we do our laundry. Whatever. Husband was busy fixing his computer, a task which is impossible to interrupt due to his uncanny inability to notice the world around him when confronted with electronics, so I just left the movie playing and called over my shoulder that I was headed into the creepy storage room and if I come back covered in dustballs and spiderwebs smelling of old cigarettes and regret he should just pay me no mind. I believe he grunted in response. Which, considering the splay of motherboards and wires and chips (oh my!) surrounding him, was akin to a verifiable gab session. Ah, love.

Harry Potter saves my love life.
So I gather my dry clothes and come back (sans dustballs- huzzah!) and begin folding in the bedroom. Meanwhile, my Harry Potter movie, which I have seen literally hundreds of times, plays on in the other room. I hear Husband get up from his techno-nest and shuffle over the wood floors and then the movie pauses and seems to skip back. From the other room I kind of call to him that he can turn it off if it's bothering him and, startled, he replies that he didn't realize I had come back. Sheepishly, he pokes his head in the bedroom and says he just wanted to rewind the movie for me while I was doing the laundry so I wouldn't miss any of it when I got back.

Be still my beating heart!

Does anyone else see the romance in this? Is it weird that my little heart just melted? Here we have a man who is usually so immersed in his computer-whatzits that he literally wouldn't notice if the house was dismantled and then rebuilt around him using nothing but dog poop and rotten eggs so long as his technology bits weren't fussed, and he took the time to stop what he was doing to rewind a movie I am so familiar with that I could actually recite verbatim in its entirety just so my evening would be a little better. Why, I'm tearing up just thinking about it. Total marriage win.


Holly said...

It's the little things isn't it. I love you guys. :)

Johi said...

That is precious. It is the little stuff that matters, like the way my husband leans in for a kiss after he has just put food in his mouth (part of which is on his face). Oh the romance.

P.S. I don't know if I wrote about that dishwashing thing, because having children melted my brain,but my man is a dishwasher hoverer. It also could have been STP, because she and I may have married brothers. Not just brothers. Twins, separated at birth.

Allie said...

Too right, Holly! Thanks for the love.

Mmmm, a food-bit kiss, eh? What a sharer. (Quick vomit.) I have noticed the similarities between you and STP- in fact sometimes I'll read one of your posts and then be all confused thinking you had already blogged about it, but NOPE, it was STP. What did people do before the internet? Does anyone remember?

Anonymous said...

Romance comes in many forms!

My husband's mid-dishwashing hugs are usually designed to bodily remove me from the sink so he can take my place. THAT'S romantic.