A Lovely Bunch of Coconuts

I love my husband.

He often has a way of being so tender with me. Like last night while laying in bed (this is G rated, I promise). I was exhausted from a previous rough night's sleep because of a bad dream, combined with an early morning which merged together with a long drive to town and back. We were facing each other in bed and he held my hand that rested somewhere up near my head. I apparently flinched involuntarily as I drifted off to sleep.

"Wanna arm wrestle?"  Les laughed.

"Huh?" I drooled.

"You flinched like you were going to pin my arm in an arm wrestling move." Les laughed more.

"Well I must've done it in my sleep before you rudely woke me up loudly asking if I wanted to arm wrestle." I reasoned sarcastically.

"We've only been laying here for about 1 minute." Les was rather amused. We both laughed and he continued to hold my hand until I drifted off to la-la land.

Even though he was teasing me, I found comfort in knowing he wanted to hold on to me until I fell asleep.

I should back up a bit. Earlier in the evening he had bathed Evie, his bassett hound. Emphasis on his. After she was dry and settled down he was holding her and said, "You smell good. You smell like Marita." He quickly defended himself when I gave him a quizzical look. "I used that coconut shampoo down in the other bathroom. It smells like your new lotion. You know, the one I love?"

This morning he tenderly cuddled me as I woke up, assuring me he was there. (The dream the night before really did bother me and he knew it.) After I showered and got ready for the day, I leaned over the back of the couch and gave him a little kiss.

"Mmm, you smell good." He said it so lovingly.

"Hmph," I backed away. "Just don't tell me I smell like Evie."