Crazy about yew...

 Sometimes I just like to sit here and watch him work. Let’s face it. I am more organized and I get stuff done. He, not so much. Granted sometimes he has more work than I do, but that's just sometimes. Mostly he is just slowly working away while I am getting stuff done. Then I go lie down on the couch and read a book. But I don't really get much reading done. I usually just end up watching him from the corner of my eye. And to this day I cannot understand why I find a man so fascinating.

I like watching him yawn from time to time. I like his changing expressions from a moment of delight to the 'w.t.f.' expression as he tries to make sense of the stuff. At times he starts mumbling all the things he thinks. He scratches his head. He lightly rubs his chest, like we would to a child to calm him down. Then all of a sudden he gets attentive towards the TV as if he is taking the driving seat of a sports car ready to start the race. He is determined to win. That’s how the channels change with the pace.

I can sit here and keep writing and watch him for the rest of the night, and many more nights. I don't know how or when the mundane became so special, a man's every move became so precious. But that's how it is. Even after so many years it amazes me. How do I find all of this so interesting?!

Either I am losing it, or I am in love. Or perhaps it's just one and the same thing.