Romantic? Who Me?

If I'm such a romantic guy (so says everyone here) then why is it my wife doesn't see it? How is it I can make someone so damn far away happy (and believe me, I love doing it) and yet the one that lays next to me every night is oblivious? Do we really grow so used to the people we live with that we become so blind to that which is in front of us? I'm beginning to see the answer as an unequivocal yes.

Its funny because Danielle and I were talking about this a few months ago after she read one of my post and she was convinced that my wife had her head up her ass, I always thought it was a stick permanently lodged up there, but I really do believe it must be her head.


Those of you who have been reading for awhile know I tend to be demure myself, so I'll often err on the side of caution, being humble and lacking to much hubris. Take a look back at ancient literature, Greek especially, and you'll find that to much pride, more often than not, is the hero's downfall. I never want to come off as to egotistical or arrogant, there seems to be plenty of that out there on the blog-sphere already. Thats why I will tend to minimize some of my actions, that, in all reality, mean a lot more.

Peedee and Vixen Kitten think I need some sense smacked up side my head I'm sure, judging by their comments. I guess all I'm trying to say is I don't feel like I'm setting out to be romantic, it just happens.

So as Peedee says, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck...

"Quack"