Wonder Wench Writes

Big Louie, His Own Bad Self, and I are not the best of friends.  He knows I think he’s the world’s worst male chauvinist (he IS) and there are major times when I am the world’s worst FEmale chauvinist, which causes all sorts of mischief for a Louie-Louie Generation Lass.

 

But then comes Valentine’s Day … and Big Louie, “HOBS” becomes a big old mush.  He forgets to be a “guy” …

 

Dickie Baby follows the HOBS line pretty closely … but we went to the Farmhouse for dinner (sigh) and he got me an awfully pretty red pillow (which I ain’t gonna tell what I’ll do with it) … and we watched Casablanca … and …

 

Now I know Valentine’s Day is not a big deal to the pimple people.  But those of us who KNOW, are very aware of the delightful bits and pieces that make up that day.  And even HOBS gets all dreamy eyed and remembers …

 

It’s not just the giving of candy or a fancy dinner or jewelry (all of which is very nice); it’s the romance of being with a LLLad for more than 40 years and still getting goose-bumps when he smiles at me and holds out his hand and whispers … well, never mind that part … Didja ever smile a secret smile and remember… too?

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