Men are sometimes strange when it comes to romance.
I got a call from the husband today as he was rushing into his hotel room in Florida after being given a brief respite from the conference he’s attending. Rushing because he had only a few minutes to spare to a) call the wife and b) use the bathroom.
Me: So, how was your day?
Hubby: [Describes his long day of sessions and meetings with techies and geeks. Rich geeks.] How was yours?
Me: [Describes an uneventful Wednesday and how I was planning to go to the park with the stepson.]
We go back and forth, joke around, call each other jerks for 10 to 15 minutes. Then –
Hubby: Hey.
Me: Yes?
Hubby: I love you!
Me: I love you too!
Three seconds of silence.
Me: Did you say that because you’re getting ready to say bye?
Hubby: I will be soon.
Me: Why?
Hubby: I have to use the bathroom.
Me: What? You’ve been holding your bladder all this time?
Hubby: Yeah, I wanted to call you first.
Me: Why would you do that?
Hubby: I thought it was the right thing to do… calling you first.
Me: Aww… that is so sweet!
Hubby: I wanted to do the right thing.
Me: You did the right thing.
A pause –
Me: And then 20 years down the line you’re going to blame me for your prostate problems.
Hubby: Maybe. But at least I did the right thing.
It is moments like this that displace the pains of removing 5,000 5mm-long hairs all over the bathroom floor after the husband is done shaving.