Flowers, Candles and Red Box

Friday I celebrated my eleventh year wedding anniversary. Eleven years with my wonderful, supportive, sexy husband. Oh how I love thee! One of the reasons I love and appreciate him so much is he had to put up with me for over a decade...and he stuck around when any sane man would have run screaming for the Downy-scented-laundry-folded-hot-meals-on-the-table hills. Maybe I made him crazy enough to stay.

One of the odd things about our pairing is he's such a romantic and, well, I'm not. I know, I know. How can a romance writer not be romantic? Believe me. It's possible. My pastor asked me the same question when he found out what I wrote--which was right after he received a letter from an anonymous member who wanted me put out of the church because of my evil, depraved ways...Apparently me and Jezebel are kin! Hee-hee! Seriously, I think he was more shocked that the woman from the annual couple retreats who follows up the word "sex" with "I don't need all that. Let's just get to it" is the same one who pens hot and detailed love scenes. It's true though. I don't need all the bells and whistles. Flowers and candles. Ropes and feathers. The first time my husband sent flowers to my job for a birthday I later told him, it was sweet 'n all, but don't bother. Black stuff grows on the vase, the flowers die and I feel like I'm watching thirty bucks die on the vine. That's depressing! Give me a pair of shoes or a gift card to Barnes 'n Nobles and let's call it a day. He might have been a little perturbed then but with distance, I really think he appreciated my honesty.

In my humble opinion--and since this is my blog I can give it--romance is subjective. One person's candlelit dinner is another's Red Box movie and take-out. That would be me, by the way. My idea of a great time is a whole day together doing nothing but lying in bed and watching t.v. or movies. Add some take-out from our favorite Italian restaurant and I'm in Utopia. His idea, on the other hand, is a linen-covered table, candles, wine, flowers, great food and Kenny G--or R. Kelly--playing softly in the background. Sometimes I feel like pulling the Julia Roberts card in Pretty Woman and say, Hey, I'm kind of a sure thing. But I know sex isn't the reason--well, not the main reason--he loves doing these things for me. It's his way of expressing his affection and appreciation. So, as bad as it sounds, I let him. And he lets me.

Although, this weekend he did surprise me with a gaw-geous hotel room complete with flower petals from the door to the bed, votive candles, a fountain and Cherry Coke chilling in the ice bucket. *sigh* I have to admit, it was romantic. Especially that Symphony chocolate bar sitting in front of the ice bucket. But, a secret? The best gift by far was the single cup coffee maker with the huge water reservoir. Now that made me want to jump his bones!! And I did! *snicker*

Now you know my Al Bundy-esque idea of romance. What's yours?