My husband is not much into mushy romantic stuff but this morning when he left for what I thought was the day, I yelled bye from the other end of the house and then sat down to work on my current book. About twenty minutes later, I hear the front door opening. This is not good as once he’s gone for the day, I’m the only one in the house. No one else has keys, no kids living at home anymore.
I reach into my desk drawer for my trusty Smith & Wesson .38 Chief’s Special and get up to investigate. Cell phone in one hand ready to dial 911, handgun in the other ready to defend myself, I peek into the hall and see nothing. Stepping further out so I can see the front door, there stands Mr. I Don’t Go For That Romance Crap with a dozen red roses in his hand.
Awww! Putting my weapon back into my office, I run out for hugs and kisses. That lasts for about three seconds and then I get a slap on my rump and he says, “I gotta go, I’m running late now.”
Yeah, he’s so romantic!