I have to say I am a pretty lucky girl when it comes to my husband. Yeah, he my not be the most responsible person. For the most part he is a man child (Aren't they all?). He drives me crazy half the time. He doesn't pick up after himself, he leaves a mess wherever he goes, and can't ever seem to close a cabinet door (bane of my existence, my head is attracted to them).
But, for all his faults, he is very protective of his family. He would stand on a street corner and sell the last shirt he had to pay for something the kids or I needed. When something is wrong with us, he is right there with us. He is a very attentive husband. Most people are surprised to learn this about him, because he is one of those guys who people lock their car doors around just because of his appearance, but is really a giant sweetie.
Yesterday, I told you how my body hates me. During this, Mr. Fluffy takes care of me. He makes sure I am comfortable, gets my heating pad for me and basically babies me. Last night was a particularly rough night. We sat on the couch and watched Heroes while I clung to my heating pad for dear life and he rubbed my legs. When it was time for bed, I made my way upstairs while he locked up. He brought my pad upstairs, helped me into bed, then............he sang me a song.
Mr. Fluffy doesn't sing. Mr. Fluffy doesn't even dance. But last night he did.
It was very, very sweet. He put on the music, a song I didn't even know he knew I loved, laid beside me and sang to me as he rubbed my back. He did all of this, just so I would smile. Because he knew it had been rough dealing with clients all day and getting everything I needed to get done all while dealing with the pain and not letting it show. He knew I needed to smile just a little. As long as I can keep smiling, it isn't so bad.
All morning long, I have had that song in my head. I'm still in pain, still not able to show it, and still having to do my everyday business. But, now.........now I'm smiling.