by Kristin Daniels
Thank God it’s Friday. It’s been a long day. You got up at dawn’s first light to finish the laundry from the night before, drove the kids to school and yourself to work, where everything that could go wrong did—not to mention you had to deal with your jerk of a boss—only to end up leaving a half hour late. You stop at the store because your son needs fish food, your daughter needs a pack of index cards (didn’t you just buy like ten of those?) and you’re out of diapers for the baby. You finally get to the checkout, daydreaming while waiting in a line longer than you’ve ever seen about going home, soaking in a hot bath and putting your favorite jammies on before curling up in bed to sleep the sleep of the dead. You hit every red light on the way home, and by the time you pull into the driveway, you’re cringing about what’s really waiting for you behind the closed front door. Screaming kids, a barking dog, and a hubby that wants your undivided attention. You schlep your way to the door and…
It opens before you get there. Waiting inside the doorway is your husband. And he’s holding a rose. When you step inside, he gives it to you, and you take it while he relieves you of the bags from the store.
You’re speechless. He smiles. You melt.
The house is quiet, except for a mellow jazz tune playing in the background and the most wonderful aroma is drifting from the dining room. You peer around the corner to find the table set for two. A pair of taper candles on the table are lit and a bottle of red is already uncorked. There’s not a booster chair in sight.
Your insides tingle, and a smile blossoms on your lips. “What’s all this?”
“It’s for you.”
He leads you to the table and holds the chair out. He hasn’t done that in years, you muse. You’re still dumbfounded as he pours the wine. “The kids?”
“Are at my mothers until tomorrow.” A knowing look passes between the two of you, and the earlier tingle travels a bit lower.
The meal is spectacular, and you’ve found that you’re not as tired as you were on the drive home. He leads you into the bedroom, but passes by the king size bed and heads to the bathroom instead. After a tender kiss that curls your toes, he lights more candles and runs hot water in the tub built for two. He adds a seductively scented rose oil to the steaming water, one you didn’t own before. You both slide in, and the massage along your shoulders begins…
Okay, I could go on and on here, but I think you get the idea. That, my friend, is what’s known as a romantic gesture. Romantic gestures can run from something well planned like this one to a simple love note tucked into your husbands lunch bag. The idea behind them are to make the other person feel special, to do something for them so out of the ordinary that they’ll always remember it.
My husband loves to bring home flowers. I never know when I’ll get them, but when I do, it always gives my heart that little flutter. What about you? I’d love to hear about your favorite romantic gesture, either one you’ve been the lucky recipient of, or maybe one you planned out.
