Love is a many splendored thing

You know what? I really want to give you a hockey puck.


Expressions of love are a very personal thing. Some people use flowery language to express their admiration.  Some creative types paint their love, or put it into a song. Giving gifts as a token of esteem is also common–just ask the people at See’s Candy or Hallmark. Or Tiffany. Other people demonstrate love with acts of service like cleaning out the trash bins or taking out the recycling. Cooking is a classic way to show affection. Some people prefer demonstrating love in a more physical way.

Get your minds out of the gutter, people–I’m talking about kissing or hugging.

And yes, the things all of you filthy-minded people thought of also count.

I’ll have to cross-reference that book about Love Languages and maybe check with one of my Minnesota relatives, as hockey pucks have never been part of my experience of the languages of love. Perhaps it is more traditional in the Minnesota lake regions, like canoeing or gathering wild rice.

While a hockey puck may not be a token of love that I have previous experience with, it still made me tear up. Yes, I know that everything makes me cry. Still. I think it is romantic in a very personal and quirky way that my hockey loving guy put a hockey puck under my pillow. I think it’s even more romantic that it’s not a new one. It’s been used. It has some dings in it. It’s like us. It’s not new and shiny, it’s been around and it’s still here.

He also wants to teach me about the things he loves.  Important things like how to ice skate like a hockey player, and how to cross-check without being caught. (I’m not sure he knows that he’s teaching me  how to cross-check yet. He may think I need to know things like how not to fall before letting me have a hockey stick. He is romantic, but also very practical and safety focused.)

If someone takes the time to draw me a diagram of a soccer field and a hockey rink and tell me what the players do and how the two games are similar and different,  it isn’t nerdy–it’s love.

OK, OK. It’s nerdy. Maybe even very nerdy. I like nerdy. It’s also love though.

He may have some work to do on getting me to love soccer…he’s trying though. He enlisted the help of a random stranger in a tap house a few weeks ago. The other day he made me fill out a World Cup bracket. Now he wants us to print out our brackets and put them on the fridge. I threatened to draw little hearts on them. This morning he woke me up and said “I have great news–some random soccer teams you have never heard of are playing tomorrow at 6am!” (I have paraphrased slightly)

I smiled at him and went back to sleep. I still don’t care about soccer, but I will be happy to learn about it if it makes him happy. I will not be getting out of bed to watch though. There are any number of things I will do at 6am, but watching soccer is not one of them. Not even as a token of love.

He also does things like tell the cat how awesome it is to have a girlfriend with a great ass. How can you not love someone who extols your virtues to your cat?

Playing up to my vanity is never a bad idea.

Oh, and the World Cup brackets?

I picked Nigeria to win, and I have no idea if that was a good pick.