Like most women, my romantic past is a bit sorted. There were great guys, middle-of-the-road guys, and guys who were all wrong but looked really cute in leather jackets. Yet right before I met my husband, I took a vow to never ever fall for "Romantic Guy" again.
Romantic Guy is the man who has perfected the art of making women swoon. He is poetry and roses. He is chivalrous. Gallant even. He is hard to resist because he feeds into a woman's desire for Hollywood romance and utter adoration.
Of course, Romantic Guy typically has the attention span of a flea. He tends to leave women sobbing in their lattes once his attention turns to the next best thing.
After one such relationship, I swore to my girlfriends that I didn't want to waste another moment with Romantic Guy. Instead, I longed for "Thick & Thin Guy."
Thick & Thin Guy stands by his gal in good times and in bad. He cares as much for her when she's a size 16 as he did when she was an 8. He is loyal, committed, and has never written a poem because he thinks only sissies do that.
I met and married Thick & Thin Guy. Life with my husband is not perfect, but it is pretty darn nice. I never doubt his love for his family, and he is the only man who has figured out that it's better to make me laugh than to do battle when I'm "in a mood."
You girls know what I'm talking about it.
Yet there are occasional moments where I wish he'd appear with flowers for no reason. Or write more than simply "Love, Joe" on a card. I mean, would it kill him to throw a girl a compliment now and then?
And just as the universe has always done, it gently rapped me on the head as Joe surprised me with this Valentine's Day gift over the weekend:
I have been using a stiff old kitchen chair at my computer desk for years. I have a horrible back and even worse posture, so to finally have a seat with proper support and a comfy cushion is like heaven.
Apparently, Thick & Thin Guy has a little bit of Romantic Guy in him after all. It just took me 10 years to figure it out.