I've never been one for romance—at least in the traditional sense. Matt's a gift-giver and likes to show his affection that way. While his gestures and thoughtfulness never go unnoticed, I've assured him that I don't need the stuff. I've got all I need—a relationship that allows us to be completely human and our true selves. Our openly honest, occasionally infuriating, gross, boring selves. This is as romantic as it gets. Strolling through this fantastically mundane cycle of life...together. Trudging along these repetitive, poo-smeared, drool-drenched days of early parenthood...together. A true partner in crime.
I hope you may be so lucky to find and keep that person; that person who will understand what you'd meant without your having to say a word. That person who will take a whiff of, well, anything if you asked. And at the end of the night, you will both climb into bed, giggling and gabbing about the funny things your kid did that day. And just as you're falling asleep, he'll let out the loudest fart. And you're awake again. How romantic.