In and out, in and out, in and out. Sweaty bodies pulsated to music with one goal in mind–finish the work out. I was on one of the leg machines at Snap Fitness watching my cellulite ripple with each push. It was disturbing.Â Â The folks around me, lost in conversation, television reruns, or ear bud tunes, had their own demons to control so I kept at my own.
The radio DJ on the overhead speaker said the following, â€œHey guys! If you think youâ€™re scoring points by presenting her roses on Valentineâ€™s day you are only half right. If you really want to make her happy, have those flowers show up at her work on Friday.â€
I pondered that for a moment and realized it was true. Thereâ€™s something about having other people oooo and ahhhh when your lover/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend sends a visible expression of love that is beyond satisfying.
Whenever my husband sent flowers to the office I worked at some years ago I was thrilled. â€œLucky you!â€ was heard more often than, â€œOh oh. What did he do now?â€ Itâ€™s like getting a gold star for being desirable, loved, lusted after.
Now that Iâ€™m working from home I still adore getting flowers. More often than not my sweetie arrives home and has them behind his back. With a flourish he presents them, followed by a wicked smile. Itâ€™s good, but itâ€™s a secret. Women sorta-kinda want the world to know what a kick-butt romantic their guy is.
My romantic guy? The best part of my day. And night.
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