If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know that my husband, Eddie, is quite a romantic. He never fails to make me feel special, and I still smile when I think of how we met and fell in love. In our early days, it took Eddie a little while to discover that I was not as openly "lovey-dovey" as he was, though I secretly adored his romantic antics. He re-proposes to me at least once a year and writes me text message poetry. We joke about "The Five Love Languages" (a book by Dr. Gary Chapman), and that Eddie has 6 of the 5, while I have 1 or 2. (Good book, by the way).
Eddie and I had a day off together, but were so tired from a busy week that we spent most of the day lounging around the apartment, taking advantage of the opportunity to just do nothing. We ended up watching early episodes of "The Office," where Jim and Pam's romance develops. In a particularly love struck moment, Eddie called to me, "I want to hold your hand." The only problem was, he was on the couch and I was on the recliner. And we were both in a much too vegetative state to move. We jokingly reached our arms out to each other, grasping at the air, yet still not willing to make the enormous effort of moving from our comfortable positions.
There was a roll of toilet paper near Eddie that I was using as Kleenex for a runny nose earlier. He unrolled it a bit, and tossed it to me, while still holding onto the free end. I laughed at his innovative solution. So we sat, each holding our end of toilet paper in place of each other's hand.
"I'm sending you love through the toilet paper." He said.
I laughed, "I'm getting it."
Eddie's one guest post: