I am not the world's thinnest person.
In fact, I'm a little "doughy" around the middle.
Too many kids.
Too many good meals.
Too little exercise.
Hubby Valentine had flowers delivered to me at home Friday. A dozen, long stemmed roses and baby's breath. A valentine card from the boys and the dog on the front looks almost exactly like Lady.
He ordered the Jane Austen movie "Persuasion" (the version with Ciarnan Hinds) for me.
A funny valentine from him to me in the morning.
A serious valentine from him on my pillow last night.
What a sweetheart!
So, we're wrapping up the day last night.
Talking over events.
How much we miss each other since his work is 14-16 hrs a day right now.
He lays his hand on my tummy and starts squishing me.
Firmly rubbing and patting my middle.
Looking very intent.
I ask him in a "I can't believe you're playing with my fat like this" voice, "Just exactly what are you doing?"
He replies, "I'm just kneading (needing) you."
Does he live, or should I wait until he falls asleep and pop him upside the head?