This is bound to get a little mushy. Too bad. I’m writing it anyway.
Selfless, I believe, describes my husband. He constantly goes out of his comfort zone for me.
The man who…
- didn’t know what a cappuccino was when we met who is now a coffee snob.
- didn’t cut his salad and made fun of me for doing so–who now cuts his salad.
- didn’t wear shorts or sandals-ever (that change wasn’t so much for me)
- hates the city, but takes me to downtown Chicago when I ask.
There’s tons more to add to the list, but I’m going to stop here and talk about the city. Phil has taken me to the city 3 times in 16 years. The first time was the day after Thanksgiving to see the tree lighting in Daly Plaza. Phil hates crowds like I hate spiders. Yet, he took me. He sniffed my hair for comfort all day long and that made me smile and made my heart flutter. Because, truthfully, and I hate to admit this, but I wouldn’t sit in a room filled with spiders for him. I think I’d pass out from the anxiety and fear.
But he overcame.
The second time we went for an Alton Brown book signing. Like father, like son. Zane was terrified.
The third time was Sunday. And y’know what? There was no anxiety that I could sense. I love this man.
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