A real man?
Forget flowers and romance and remembering our anniversary and shit like that (he never remembers our anniversary. I don't either. We're pretty sure we got married at some point and it was a great party and we're both good with that). Forget knowing if you like iced tea or red peppers (he always asks me if I want iced tea in restaurants even though I have never ever ever in the twenty or so years he's known me ordered iced tea, and the other night while he was assembling dinner plates I heard from upstairs as he asked my kids 'does Mommy like red peppers?' -- I don't). Forget putting his damned socks in the laundry (on the floor by the couch. on a kitchen chair. on the bedside table --bleaaaah).
A real man? A real man will hear you say 'shit!' in a loud whisper when you finish reading at 11:30 p.m., attempt to take off your glasses and lay them on the table and have the left lens fall out due to a tiny little screw coming loose in the frame. The real man will open his eyes, roll over, assess the problem, go down two whole floors to the work room in the basement, find a tiny little screwdriver, and proceed to tighten the tiny little screw back to the point where the frame will hold the lens, so his near-legally-blind wife will not have to stumble around in a featurelessly blurry world the next morning. All while his hair sticks up around his cute little bald spot. Said real man will then go back to bed with you and let you warm your freezing feet on his legs.
Roses? Phffttth.
A real man? A real man will hear you say 'shit!' in a loud whisper when you finish reading at 11:30 p.m., attempt to take off your glasses and lay them on the table and have the left lens fall out due to a tiny little screw coming loose in the frame. The real man will open his eyes, roll over, assess the problem, go down two whole floors to the work room in the basement, find a tiny little screwdriver, and proceed to tighten the tiny little screw back to the point where the frame will hold the lens, so his near-legally-blind wife will not have to stumble around in a featurelessly blurry world the next morning. All while his hair sticks up around his cute little bald spot. Said real man will then go back to bed with you and let you warm your freezing feet on his legs.
Roses? Phffttth.
Comments
I absolutely LOVED this post. You have inspired me. Tomorrow, I will write about my "real man". Not quite as wonderful as yours. My model doesn't get up out of bed once he's asleep. I am VERY much impressed with yours!
My real man lets me warm my cold feet on his nice warm legs, too, with nary a complaint.