In the eye of the beholder....
Jeremy and I were in the kitchen last night, unloading the dishwasher.
We talked about our upcoming anniversary and my birthday. I had earlier in the evening wheedled out of him what he was thinking of getting me for my birthday, because he had expressed doubt as to whether or not I would like it.
He was going to get me a Nook Book.
It was a very sweet gesture. And he thought long and hard about it.
But he knew, deep down, that I'm a real book girl, and that was confirmed when he told me what his plans were. I made sure to be effusive about how thoughtful he is (because he really is), but that I'm a simple girl, and I really like paper.
"I have stacks of paper all over the house. I just love paper! You've seen all the lists I make just so I can feel the paper and write all over it..."
Jeremy seemed a little downcast, not because I didn't want the Nook, but because he had to start all over again.
A few Christmases ago, Jeremy bought me a beautiful string of pearls with matching earrings. They were just lovely, but I couldn't imagine myself wearing them, so, with a lot of anxiety, I told him my feelings and we took them back to the store. I exchanged the pearls for a simple daisy necklace. (Yes,yes, it's not everyday a man buys his wife pearls, and shame on me for taking them back. I KNOW, okay!? I K N O W...)
Jeremy is the very classy, classic type.
I'm a hobo.
"Seriously," I said, trying to be kind, and not bossy, or demanding. "I'm a simple girl. Like a hippie...I would be happy if you just got me a book or a simple piece of jewelry." Wow. I sound demanding and bossy.
Jeremy apparently didn't notice.
"A hippie? Well, being promiscuous is really not your style..."
What?
It took me a minute.
"WHOA," I replied when it finally dawned on me what he was saying. "That is so not what I meant. I mean like baggy clothes and flowers in my hair..."
"Oh, well, I see..." Jeremy finished, seeming a tad disappointed.
I glared at him.
"Well, maybe I would be more inclined, to, well, you know, if I felt like you thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world...."
"You are the most beautiful woman in my world," he said, shoving food into his lunch box.
"That isn't the same thing."
"Well, I don't know everybody else, and the women in Hollywood are fake with all their makeup and everything..."
I glared at him again.
"You are seriously digging...."
"What?" he protested. "You are the most beautiful woman I know."
"That doesn't count!" I exclaimed. "I want to be, to you, more beautiful than the other six billion people on earth!"
"There are seven billion," he said, and he laughed when I swatted his arm.
"See?? This is why I'm not 'promiscuous,'" and I left the room.
I headed to the bathroom and threw myself in the shower. A few minutes later, Jeremy poked his head around the shower curtain.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he said.
I snorted.
"You can't say that now," I retorted.
He shrugged, and went to go look for his pajamas.
I exited the shower and dried myself off, finishing by wrapping myself in towels.
I stood in front of the sink to brush my teeth and I looked into the mirror. I had two mascara-made raccoon eyes.
"Yeah, that's pretty..." I thought to myself. I looked down at the pile of clothes Jeremy had left for me.
On top of everything was a black Lucky brand shirt. It had "peace," "harmony," "love," and other sentiments circa 1960.
I walked into the bedroom.
"Really?" I said blandly.
Jeremy looked up at me with complete innocence.
"What?"
"This is my hippy shirt!"
He laughed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't notice."
Likely story....
We talked about our upcoming anniversary and my birthday. I had earlier in the evening wheedled out of him what he was thinking of getting me for my birthday, because he had expressed doubt as to whether or not I would like it.
He was going to get me a Nook Book.
It was a very sweet gesture. And he thought long and hard about it.
But he knew, deep down, that I'm a real book girl, and that was confirmed when he told me what his plans were. I made sure to be effusive about how thoughtful he is (because he really is), but that I'm a simple girl, and I really like paper.
"I have stacks of paper all over the house. I just love paper! You've seen all the lists I make just so I can feel the paper and write all over it..."
Jeremy seemed a little downcast, not because I didn't want the Nook, but because he had to start all over again.
A few Christmases ago, Jeremy bought me a beautiful string of pearls with matching earrings. They were just lovely, but I couldn't imagine myself wearing them, so, with a lot of anxiety, I told him my feelings and we took them back to the store. I exchanged the pearls for a simple daisy necklace. (Yes,yes, it's not everyday a man buys his wife pearls, and shame on me for taking them back. I KNOW, okay!? I K N O W...)
Jeremy is the very classy, classic type.
I'm a hobo.
"Seriously," I said, trying to be kind, and not bossy, or demanding. "I'm a simple girl. Like a hippie...I would be happy if you just got me a book or a simple piece of jewelry." Wow. I sound demanding and bossy.
Jeremy apparently didn't notice.
"A hippie? Well, being promiscuous is really not your style..."
What?
It took me a minute.
"WHOA," I replied when it finally dawned on me what he was saying. "That is so not what I meant. I mean like baggy clothes and flowers in my hair..."
"Oh, well, I see..." Jeremy finished, seeming a tad disappointed.
I glared at him.
"Well, maybe I would be more inclined, to, well, you know, if I felt like you thought I was the most beautiful woman in the world...."
"You are the most beautiful woman in my world," he said, shoving food into his lunch box.
"That isn't the same thing."
"Well, I don't know everybody else, and the women in Hollywood are fake with all their makeup and everything..."
I glared at him again.
"You are seriously digging...."
"What?" he protested. "You are the most beautiful woman I know."
"That doesn't count!" I exclaimed. "I want to be, to you, more beautiful than the other six billion people on earth!"
"There are seven billion," he said, and he laughed when I swatted his arm.
"See?? This is why I'm not 'promiscuous,'" and I left the room.
I headed to the bathroom and threw myself in the shower. A few minutes later, Jeremy poked his head around the shower curtain.
"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he said.
I snorted.
"You can't say that now," I retorted.
He shrugged, and went to go look for his pajamas.
I exited the shower and dried myself off, finishing by wrapping myself in towels.
I stood in front of the sink to brush my teeth and I looked into the mirror. I had two mascara-made raccoon eyes.
"Yeah, that's pretty..." I thought to myself. I looked down at the pile of clothes Jeremy had left for me.
On top of everything was a black Lucky brand shirt. It had "peace," "harmony," "love," and other sentiments circa 1960.
I walked into the bedroom.
"Really?" I said blandly.
Jeremy looked up at me with complete innocence.
"What?"
"This is my hippy shirt!"
He laughed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't notice."
Likely story....
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