What I like about you. . . You really know how to dance

Nine years ago I got lucky. . . in more ways than one.

I am not one of those girls that boys dream about. I am not one of those girls with a great smile, witty banter or even good legs. I can't even do the "come-hither" hair flip successfully.

However, nine years ago, a very cute, tall boy took notice of me and started to like me, even love me.

I won't bore you with the details of our first meeting or the subsequent dates, but I did want to share with you some of the things that made me love him back:

He really can dance. That boy has rhythm! Sadly, I cannot dance. It's true. "Friends" even staged a dancing intervention with me to let me know how horrible I am. (There's no rehab for bad dancers, sadly.) I do, however, love to watch and he provides much entertainment. I sometimes dream of being able to dance and show him off on an updated version of "Footloose". (Once in a while, we close the blinds and. . . dance to our heart's content.)

His honesty amazes me. His stories are never enhanced for effect. He doesn't add to the drama. He is self-deprecating in the most genuine of ways and I love him for being honest with me, about me and for me. This is how I know he loves me for me.

He laughs with me and at me. Most of the time I feel kinda out there on my own, but I know that I can go home where he will get my jokes and laugh at my bad wardrobe decisions.

He cleans the litter box. Any man that will sit in the floor and scoop kitty crap must be in love. He doesn't complain, but it's the nastiest job in the house and he took it. That's devotion.

Speaking of crap, that brings me to my next point. He loves crappy pop music and isn't ashamed of it. He relishes singing and dancing to it and is proud that he's an officianado of one hit wonders.

He is kind to his family. I think that for anyone this is a great feat. I struggle to say a kind word to my siblings and parents, but he's naturally kind to them, even when they may not deserve it. That's not the point: he loves them as he loves me, unconditionally.

I could ramble on, but I will save some of the reasons for myself. Happy 9 years of dating bliss. I love you. I love your dancing and I even love your crappy music.

The photo above was shot at the farmer's market in my community. I included this shot of cherry peppers in tribute to Cynical, because he's hot too.