About ten years ago I had a mentor I called Fisher. She was an older lady from Brazil, English was her second language and her accent was so thick that everything she said was cute just because of the way it sounded. I'll admit it now. Accents are beautiful. Anyway, she used to tell me "Bay Shan, a man can never be too much mushy." At first I wasn't sure whether she was talking about a man's feelings or his body fat percentage. Then as I got older I began to realize what she meant.
I want to tell you what my morning was like today. I know this will sound fairly sentimental and tame compared to my usual banter, but hey . . . I'm a capitalist and I believe in rewarding excellence.
My Andrew's college classes started today, and he got up at 5:00 a.m. so he could catch the early train to campus. Somewhere in the blurry vestiges of my mind I heard his alarm go off, but being the sleepy little punk that I am I went right back to sleep and didn't even hear him leave. My own alarm woke me up again several hours later so off I went, shuffling around the house like an old grandma, getting ready for work and whatnot. In the middle of my routine I got a phone call from Andrew. "I just missed you," he said, "and I wanted to say that I love you." It's a wonderful thing, see, when a man thinks of you like that.
As I left the bedroom and passed the kitchen table I noticed Andrew's notebook sitting open. There, in big bold letters, was a love note. Waiting for me. Keeping me company while I ate my breakfast. Making me feel like the most important person in all the world.
When I got to the kitchen it looked different somehow. Cleaner. I opened the dishwasher and realized that it had been loaded with dirty dishes from the night before and soap had been put into the dispensers. The dial had even been set on a delayed timer. Gratefully I realized that my Andrew made time to make me happy this morning. He wrote me a beautiful note. He did those dishes and even set the dishwasher to go off late in the day so it wouldn't make noise while I slept.
I have never met anyone as thoughtful and kind as my Andrew. So I guess Fisher was right. A man can never be too much mushy. If my Andrew ever reads these I want him to know that I am and will forever be his most adoring fan. Ta gra agham, mo' chroi.
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AWWW That is so sweet! The grateful attidutde reminds me to b enicer to my hubby who does stuff liek that too adn not just jump down his throat when he pours bad milk in the garbage disposal isntead of jsut throwign it away. =) They have thier totally sweet sides.
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