That's not to say MathMan hasn't wooed me with his own endearing romantic overtures. He knows how to make me swoon without resorting to the trite. Any Tom, Dick or Hamid can get his valentine a card, a box of Russell Stovers, an armful of her favorite roses or a diamond necklace like the one advertised by Tiffany's in a full page color spread in Sunday's Atlanta Journal Constitution during a recession with near record unemployment. What? No love for the concentration of wealth at the very top where people buy Tiffany heart necklaces? Philistines.
I am not speaking through gritted teeth. Anyway, I was making a point about other, more creative ways to show one's affection and I'm not married to just any Ted, Doug or Henry with a credit card and lack of imagination. Heck no. I get text messages like this:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Lookin' forward to seeing you.
Awwww. Or how about this one:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm writing to you
While I take a poo.
Now, I ask you - what's not to love? This man thinks of me incessantly. After twenty-somanyIdon'tevenrememberanymore years together, he also knows the direct route to my heart not involving chocolate or pornographic images. Potty humor. I'm a fool for a well-delivered poo story, a cleverly crafted fart joke or a sight gag based on peeing and/or having to pee at the wrong time. Come to think of it, MathMan frequently texts me just that. I'm peeing. That's just so nice because I'm pleased to know he's staying hydrated during his busy days and it's always good to feel like I'm part of his day even when he's many miles away.
In return for his witty, near Hugh Grantesque romantically comedic texts, I'm showing my love for MathMan in ways unique to my role in this relationship. I made him this last night. And you know how much he loves me? Even though he detests cooked raisins, he didn't spit a single one out in my presence. In exchange, I didn't remind him that he needs to grow up and stop calling cooked raisins and cherry pie filling slimy.
While I'm on the subject of love, I must tell you that I got lucky with some blog love today. Tengrain, of the world famous Mock Paper Scissors, and the kiss heard round the blogosphere (I still haven't washed my lips two years later!) gave a link shout out to That's Why on the universally famous Crooks & Liars.
Imagine my surprise as I was drag assin' around this morning because I caught the crud from Sophie and as I sat round shouldered, glumly poking my mouse and thinking I should just go back to bed when I opened my statcounter and saw a huge leap in visitors and they weren't all looking for Nancy Pelosi's breasts or the weather lady's nipples. My seven day stats looked positively phallic. I perked right up at the sight of that. So thank you, Tengrain, for that link and the resulting graphic. May I ride them both. To fame and fortune.
I hope your Monday is starting your week off with a bang. You can take that however you want. Now I must scoot. I'm helping Sophie with her How To demonstration for her sixth grade language arts class. But before she can teach them, she's got to learn how to make a dirty martini, right?
Who's wooing you? What's wooing you? Who or what are you wooing? Have you kissed Tengrain? Do you ever use Woo Hoo on Facebook? Stop that.
*I don't know what I love more - his overall performance or the flexibility of his hose.