If you girls only knew the other half. Let’s show you what you’re missing.

1 . He kisses my hand.

Oh the typical princely gesture. But he’s not kissing my skin. He’s kissing the smudge of chocolate that I clumsily missed while eating ice cream.

2. He opens the car door for me.

Do you know how many times he pulled a sulky face because I accidentally left a teensy mark on his baby car? I know it’s my fault but I can’t rein in my jerky leg when I turn and open the door. I always scrub away that mark too!

3. He nuzzles his head in my hair.

Then he whispers, “You need a wash.”

And that is by far, the worst. 

So I figured I would do something back. 

He was gardening on this hot summer evening. He had his shirt off, the sweat glistening off his skin. Unlike my usual routine of staying cool and refreshed inside the air conditioned kitchen, I told him I would join him for once. 

I went up to the bedroom and pulled on the outfit I had specifically chosen. A glance in the mirror had me cackling with glee. The old girl still had it after all.

I bounded down the stairs and hurried out into the front yard. Mike had his back to me as he hosed down the grass. I grabbed the other spare hose, water already pouring out from its end. I struck up a pose, placing a hand on my hip while leaning on the front post, the other hand hidden behind my back holding the hose. 

“Honey!” I called out to him. “I’m ready!”

He grunted and turned around. When he saw the skimpy bikini outfit I was in, his mouth literally dropped open. I could see him clearly ogling my body. A smirk stretched my lips at the intended effect. Now was the time! 

Whipping out the hose from behind me, I pressed my thumb down hard on the end and aimed the jet of water at my target. It hit Mike right in the face and when I lifted my thumb, he looked like a sorry figure. Drenched from head to toe, water dripping down his chin, his bangs covering his eyes, I could barely stifle my laughter.

My voice cracking with the effort not to completely lose it, I finally threw the barb I had rehearsed. 

“Sorry, Mike, you looked like a thirsty drooling dog over there.”

(Needless to say, the furious Mike carried me away bridal style back into the house and re-enacted a dog-related scene, if you get my drift. I guess we both got what we wanted.)