(I’m swamped by a few things I have to get done today, so here’s a rerun from the archives. Original airdate for this entry: 11/9/07)
One thing I love about romance heroes is how they manage to find their heroines’ annoying little character
flaws quirks endearing. So I started a Thursday Thirteen listing random character flaws quirks I possess that my hero must find endearing. (Paragraph of irrelevent rambling taken out.)
flaws traits my husband might find endearing:
1. I’m a left-footed braker, especially endearing during his few futile attempts to teach me to drive a stick shift.
2. Now matter how gentle he tries to be, I often awaken as if I’ve been shot—bolting upright, wide-eyed and startled as hell. More often than not during the last fifteen years I’ve awakened not to “Good morning, darling” but rather “What the :censor: is wrong with you?”.
3. I always sing in a vehicle, but rarely feel a need to sing the song actually playing on the radio. I’m sure he finds my accompanying Disturbed’s “Shout 2004” with Rascal Flatts while he’s trying to drive very endearing indeed.
4. I air-type when I’m bored, stressed or waiting for something. (I confess this only after hearing from several other authors that I’m not alone in this habit.) This often leads to an endearingly spoken “What the :censor: is wrong with you?”.
5. Conversations like this:
Him: How come you backed the Jeep into the driveway?
Me: Because if I park it so the front end is pointing uphill, the gas warning light goes off.
6. Most endearing, I’m sure, is my ability to conversationally multitask:
Him: You need to call the broker and add the second sled to the policy and—
Me: If you piss in somebody’s gas tank, would your car outrun that one in a high-speed chase?
Him: I’m out of shaving cream.
Me: I can’t think of another word for exquisite.
I knew when I accepted his proposal (at least I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant when he said “Well, do you want it?” after I opened the ringbox) that my husband is not a poetic soul, so I’ve learned to decipher what I’m given. After fifteen years, it’s quite clear to me when he says “What the :censor: is wrong with you?”, what he’s trying to say is “You’re such a unique and special woman, I can’t believe how blessed I am to get to spend every day of the rest of my life…until I die…with you.”
(I can literally hear his voice in my head right now saying, “You’re special, alright.”)