Does Goofy Count?

This is The Pirate's House in Savannah where men were plied with drugged rum
and shanghaied in the 1700s. I'm little, but I figured I could still shanghai Jay.

In the previous post I related how Jay gave me a beautiful anniversary card...without writing my name in it or signing it. Well, God bless him, his romantic attempts weren't any more successful when Valentine's Day rolled around a few days later.

We were at a Bed & Breakfast in Savannah. In our room, I found a book called Of Love and War which is comprised of 250 years of wartime love letters. Hoping for some romance, I asked Jay to read me one. Instead, he picked up a framed copy of the extremely long obituary of Robert E. Lee that dryly listed his every military victory, failure, and accomplishment in great detail. 

Swoon.

What woman doesn't want to hear an obituary read to her on Valentine's Day?

I checked Facebook posts while Jay droned on, but said, "Wow. Really?" or "I didn't know that!" (a safe assumption) every time Jay paused, because that's the sacrifice a wife makes for her husband after 10 years of marriage.

He finally sat down and rifled through the book of love letters. After a few minutes, I asked him, again, to read me something. Something romantic. It's not like I expect the man to write me a love letter, but I figured he could certainly read me one. Instead, he scanned the blubs on the side of each entry that gave information about the letter writers. 

Jay (seriously): Okay,  here's something.

Me (breathless in anticipation): Oh, good.

Jay: This is about the conditions during WWII blackouts in London. A nurse wrote, 'We have to feed our patients onions to find them in the dark.'

Me (laughing): That is what you choose to read to your wife for Valentine's Day? You romantic, you! By the way, honey, if you're trying to justify why you eat so much garlic, I'd rather put a nightlight in our room.

He (unconvinced): Well, I guess that's another option.

Me (nabbing the book): This is a letter Alexander Hamilton wrote to his wife during the Revolutionary War. 'I cannot announce the fatal necessity (of being moved further away) without feeling everything that a fond husband can feel. I am unhappy; I am unhappy beyond expression. I am unhappy because I am to be so remote from you; because I am to hear from you less frequently than I am accustomed to do. I am miserable because I know you will be so; I am wretched at the idea of flying so far from you, without a single hour's interview to tell you all my pains and my love.' (Handing the book back to Jay) Now that is romantic.

He (protesting): Read the history blurb on the side. He died in a duel and left her penniless with seven kids. (Shaking his head in disgust) The knucklehead.

Me (giggling): OK, I'll give you that one. Romantic men aren't always practical.  

Short pause, as he continues flipping through the book.

Me (coaxing): Come on. Read me one of the letters, honey.

He: 'Dearest Darling Wife, yadda, yadda, yadda, Christmas, yadda, yadda, yadda, miss you, yadda, yadda...'

Me (snickering): Did you just say, 'Yadda, yadda'? 

He (sincerely): Yeah. But here's an interesting part. 'Now about the house you were talking about. I wish you could wait a few more months before you did make a decision.' I can't figure out why he wanted her to wait and couldn't just let her buy the house if she wanted a house!   

Me (rolling my eyes): Yes, honey, I'm sure that was the point of the letter.  Give me that book; I want to read what you consider 'yadda, yadda.'

He:  Fine. Here.

Me:  OK, the letter really reads, 'Dearest Darling Wife, You and the kids are all I worry (about) & would do anything in the whole world for. As I told you before, darling, we will live in a little world of our own when I get back. I am glad everything is fixed for Christmas. I would have loved more than anything in the world, besides being there, to have bought gifts for all of you, but it's an impossible thing to do over here, sugar.'

He (shrugging):  Like I said, 'Yadda, yadda, yadda.'

Shaking my head in amusement. Short pause as I peruse the letter again.

Me (thoughtfully):  Darling, you know what I like best about this letter?

He: What?

Me:  That this man actually wrote his wife's name on it. And he signed it before he sent it to her!

He (with a grin): What a show off!

Verse of the Day: (I John 3:18) "Dear children, let's not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions." Jay might not be able to write (or even read) me a love letter, but he, with husbandly intuition, knows that the true way to my heart is through chocolate.