It’s true. He is my “better” half…

Have you ever had one of those weeks where everything you touched turned to crap? You know the type. Each day something new falls apart or some other trial rears its ugly head.

I just had one of those weeks. To quote the words of “my better half” –my week sucked out loud.

But then everything changed. Isn’t it amazing the difference a thoughtful action can make?

When I arrived home from work, Hubby told me, “Change clothes, we’re going out.”

I glanced down at my comfortable jeans and tee shirt, sucked in a weary breath and asked, “Why?”

“Because you need this and I said so,” he replied.

Hubby’s known for his to-the-point blunticity. It’s one of his more “endearing” qualities. I don’t bother arguing with him, I’m stubborn but I’m no match for his tenacity. However, I can’t give in without a bit of a fight –so I give him the trademark eye roll and exasperated sigh, then stomp off to change outfits.

He laughs. He knows round one is his.

Clothes changed, hair and make-up touched up. I slide into the car and ask, “Where are we going?”

He sounds like our six-year-old granddaughter when he grins and replies, “I’m not tellin’”

I give another eye roll accompanied with an irritated snort.

He chuckles and chalks up his win for round two.

We park at the end of a vaguely familiar street. I fix him with a narrow-eyed glare. “Are we going where I think we’re going? That spot’s just for anniversaries.”

His face lights up with a blinding smile. “You need this. Now, hurry up. We’re late for our reservations.”

We walk through the door of the empty restaurant. The maitre d’ smiles and nods at my husband as we enter. “Everything is just as you requested, sir.”

The smiling gentleman guides us through the candle lit dining room to a cozy elevated table in the corner. A dozen long-stemmed, blood red roses in a lovely crystal vase grace the center of the table.

I tear up. Hubby smiles and pats my hand as he slides into the booth beside me.

I don’t even mind that he just won the entire match.