It’s Just The Way That You Love Me

13 11 2006

People often ask me “So how did you manage to get her to fall in love with you?”. Most of the times this is followed by a hearty chuckle and a brotherly punch in the arm to my detractor, but occasionally they continue with “No, seriously, what the fuck? The theory my friends have involves chloroform, a kidnapping, and some sort of brain implant, but I don’t think you’re sharp enough for that. I think you’ve got someone in her family held at gunpoint. So which is it?” It’s neither, douchetruck. It’s my deep understanding of her needs and my ability to communicate. I offer you Exhibit A, this morning’s breakfast already in session:

“Are you hard-boiling eggs, sweetie?”

“Yeah. There were only two left in the fridge and I knew you’d probably like one for lunch so I just cooked them up.”

“Aww, thanks!”

“No problem, babe. After all, everything I do is to make you happy.”

“Uh-huh. And what about smoking cigars?”

“Someday I will more than likely quit smoking cigars. And if it should happen, I’ll totally be doing it for you.”

I can’t help it. I can’t stop giving.

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