The other night we were lolling about on the couches in our living room after the children went to bed trying to decide if we should watch television or go to sleep.
[Oh, the STRESS of the decision making around here!]
K lifted his legs up in the air and pondered his leg hair.
[Our evenings are just THAT rich.]
“My leg hair looks kind of blonde tonight. It makes me able to imagine myself as an old man with grey leg hair. Will you still love me then?”
I sat up.
I looked over at him, this man I love.
“I will,” I said. “I will still love you then. I won’t ever stop.”
I got up from my chair and went to sit beside him.
I tucked my head into the spot on his chest where it fits just right.
We stayed like that for a long while.
Then, after a long measure of love, I said,
“Dude, let’s watch some crappy TV shows.”