Whoever says that you can’t set rules in your relationship is one absurd liar. My man is trimmed like a fence. He knows he should open doors for me. He knows that he has to cook me a ‘romantic’ candle lit
dinner every third Thursday of the month. He calls me sweetie, mami or Schatz (German for sweetheart) He is always first in bed to warm it for Queen ME.
On Fridays, he wears blue jeans, my fave color. Did I mention the twice-a-week blue-shirt prescription?
He compliments my outfits once in a long while… (a long while being 24 hours) “Schatz, you look flawless.” He says.
He cooks, cleans, and calls me sweetie… after. How he even knows the number of sugar granules that goes into my 8:37pm coffee, am yet to figure out. He knows my monthly salon schedules. My manicure, pedicure and massages calendar, I may forget but this man won’t! Let me not forget about my birthday, I mean, he never does…
My man is that dog that comes home at 6:30PM everyday. That barks when facing East. That dog that only knows one kennel, my trained dog.
So now I may make myself to believe that he is Mr. Perfect. I can tell there are around 177 ladies who are so jealous of this ‘mami.’
Woii! Just because he will never let me feel that cold doorknob, because he makes me feel like queen myself, till I yawn, doesn’t mean that he wont make another queen his dinner on the second Thursday of every month. Just because he calls me ‘sweetie,’ ‘Schatz’ and ‘mami’ doesn’t mean that there is an exhaustion of them sweet nothings. I mean, ‘sugar plum’ ‘my sutra,’ ‘gachungwa,’ ‘kamlevi kangu’, are still kinda sweet (maybe not sweeter than mine) words that he can use to refer to his significant 69 others.
Just because he wears them hot blue shirts for me doesn’t mean that the light green shirts he wears, (yes I have noticed) are not to impress a ka-not-so-significant other (*hopes*). Remembering my birthday is not a clear sign that I’m the only stylus in his Smartphone. I mean Jesus was born on the 25th of December; Esther my neighbor was born on the 16th of June….
So as I throw this dog its bone tonight, I may think that I have trimmed its jaws but, my oh my, it has roamed the village all day (counting sugar granules.)