How I know my husband loves me … sort of

Because I have a bunch of work to finish up tonight, Mike, my wonderful husband, is making me dinner.

We’re having Mac ‘N Cheese ‘N Peas, one of my favorite dishes (seriously, no sarcasm).

“How many peas do you want?” he asked.

“Ummm, 167,” I said in true smart-alec form.

“OK,” he replied and began counting.

That’s how much he loves me.

But then he got bored and said, “If you want me to count your peas, you’re not going to get very many peas.”


And I’m pretty sure he loves me a whole lot, just not 167 individual peas worth.

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