Post by Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain's Wife
I know what love is.
I love my husband and I love my son.
My love for my son is FIERCE.
My love for my son is infinite.
Love is flying across the country with lime green rubber gloves to clean his house.
Love is sobbing like a crazy woman when he gets his Ph.D., screaming "That's my Angel Boy, that's my Angel Boy!"
Love is knowing my son’s going to call before the telephone rings.
Love is dreaming that his glasses broke while he was in Europe and getting the call the following day telling me he fell down and his glasses broke and what should he do.
Love is being married to someone who adores you like you're a princess--no matter what. No matter the un-Botoxed wrinkles, the C-section scar, and the cellulite that won't disappear.
Love is treating hubs like a precious gift, like the first day you knew you were in love.
Love doesn't depend on the size of his bank account, the make of his car, or the size of his...boat.
Love is being nice even when he's grumpy, even when he's annoying, even when you don't want to be nice.
Love is respect.
Love is being told you and he are like two peas in a pod.
Love is holding up a mirror and love shines back.
Love is holding the emesis basin while he vomits after surgery to repair a smashed up knee.
Love is a cup of ginger tea when you have a sore throat.
In the last week, he told me I was weird, I'm a chatterbox, and he looked at this picture and said, "Wow, you've always had frizzy hair!"
Love is NOT making him a shit pie in retaliation.
Love is listening to Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years" a thousand times and tearing up every single time.
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