Studly Doright took me out for dinner last night for an early Valentine’s Day celebration. He also bought me a bouquet of tulips in a box. You know, the kind you have to assemble yourself?
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore receiving flowers, but part of the romance is lost if I have to cut the stems, pull the leaves, and mix up that floral cocaine that keeps the flowers fresh. So this year I said, “Thanks, hon. Now you make ’em pretty for me.”
And miracle of miracles, he did! I know I’ll need to do a little fine tuning here and there, but at least he took the plunge. And that’s the definition of love. Taking plunges.
When Studly asked me out on our first date, he took a big, scary plunge. For all he knew I’d turn him down cold, yet still he asked.
Our first kiss was a plunge. I’m not sure which of us initiated the touching of lips to lips, but it was pure bliss and it was the moment I realized I might already be falling in love with this crazy, funny, smart(ass) boy.
And even though Studly was 99.9% sure I’d answer yes when he asked if I would marry him, that, too was a plunge.
Studly and I have been wed for almost four decades, and we’re still taking plunges. We plunged in head first on having children. Every one of our cross country moves has been a plunge. It’s been a veritable plunge-a-thon!
With any luck, the biggest ones are behind us. But those little ones, like watching my big, handsome man arranging my bouquet of flowers, I hope we have many more of those.
Peace, and Happy Valentine’s Day, people!