And here is love…
I will admit it: There are times where it’s really hard to be married. There are times when I feel like me and my husband are living in two separate worlds, speaking two very different languages, throttling towards the frustrated complacency that so many try to tell you is inevitable after you are married.
And then, on a random Tuesday while making dinner, my husband jumps away from his place by the sink and assumes the raptor position and we leave the macaroni to boil on the stove while we spend the next 10 minutes squawking around the downstairs, awkwardly jerking our necks around and running/walking around like creatures from The Dark Crystal, half the time chasing the other, the other half being chased.
And then, without any discussion at all, we both silently agree that Raptor Time is over and walk back into the kitchen, slightly out of breath, one stirring the orecchiette, the other quietly waiting for the spinach to finish sautéing.
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