Every day is another opportunity for a man to come home and utter the words, “I have presents for you.” And those words – those special, adoration-producing words – are outdone only by an arrangement whose intensity is maintained best through scarcity. “There was a sale at Zara.”
And today was such a day in the Morrow home. A day when the scales of complacency were loosened from my eyes and the world was born anew.
A little known fact about
women me? A present for me is made even better if it’s something for him that I – long ago! – mentioned I’d love to see him in. Read: there were loverly pieces for him, too. But among the booty was a splendor that I must here share. And then quickly end this post before it turns from well-intentioned gushing to homicide-inducing….for of course, YOU did not receive bags of Zara, I presume.
And how can you be sure that his love for you is genuine? By these words, “There was a lot more that you’d like. We should go back tomorrow.”
Eat your heart out, Mr. Darcy.