My wife thinks I’m not as romantic as I used to be.
To this, I agree.
Also, our 15-year-old clothes dryer doesn’t dry clothes as fast as it used to.
Maybe we are both clogged with lint. Or maybe our heating elements are burning out.
After 19 Valentine’s Days, 19 of her birthdays, 19 Christmases, 16 wedding anniversaries, and 15 Mothers’ Days, it can become challenging to come up with fresh bursts of romance.
Lately, it has taken lots of time and effort to keep that old dryer limping along. It’s had its triumphs and failures. It makes more noise now than it should. So do I.
We both wore out our belts.
Cards have sure changed since my youthful days of flaming romance.
I prepared to buy a new dryer, but my wife said no. She said these new computerized dryers have too many sophisticated parts that could break down and be expensive to fix.
Sure, they look flashy and seem full of promises, but they would most likely be unreliable.
She would rather stick with the dryer she understands—the one she knows where to kick when it acts up.
The one I can keep running, imperfectly, but consistently.
She gets annoyed at the old dryer’s many flaws, but she knows eventually the clothes will come out warm and dry, and comfortable.
We both get annoyed, but we are the only two who know all the old jokes, and understand why they are still funny. We couldn’t laugh so hard at anything else.
Even after all these years of hit or miss holidays, my wife is still a very attractive woman. I have little doubt she could have much more than a new dryer if she wished.
But I have even less doubt that she cherishes warm and comfortable things that she knows exactly where to kick.
I may have slowed down, but I never moved the target.
There must be something romantic in that.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all the young lovers, young and old alike.