Small Kisses Count

Kisses add up

It was 6 o’clock in the morning. I woke with my face in my husband’s cheek. I lay still, watching him so relaxed and feeling his warm breath across my face. The alarm goes off and he reaches back with a flailing arm knocking a glass off the night stand trying to find the clock. He turns it off and returns to his peaceful position and pulls me in a little closer. Ah, just a few more minutes of bliss before tackling the day. Then with a huge yawn, he stretched and raised the covers and gave me a hard smack on the forehead and tumbled off to the bath room.

I pulled on a robe and went to the kitchen. This was Saturday, my day off, our day to have a good breakfast together. I put on some bacon to fry and he joined me freshly shaved. He slipped up behind me, put his hands around my waist and whispered, “I’ll take mine scrambled.” A pop of grease caused me to raise my hand which he caught mid-air searching for a finger, then kissed it.

We discussed the day over a fabulous breakfast. The phone rang. I answered it. He dressed for work and was leaving. He tapped on the counter lightly with his keys to get my attention and mouthed quietly, “I’ll be home for lunch.” I acknowledged with a hand gesture. He walked over and kissed me quickly on top of my head.

12 o’clock noon. I made a salad and left it on the table. I had exercised for an hour and stepped in the shower. I came out in a robe, a towel around my head and a green mud pack on my face that was beginning to harden. He walked in to say he was leaving, and gave no thought to my raccoon eyes and shrinking skin. He took my turbaned head in his hands and turned it this way and that as if he were looking for something and said, “I'm not leaving here without sugar, and I have to find a place 'sooommeee' where.” He squeezed his mouth up teeny and left a little peck on my chin, then walked over to the mirror and wiped his mouth to be sure he didn’t have any of that green stuff all over him. “See ya’ at seven,” he said. My face was now stone stiff, so I uttered through my teeth, “K, bye, luv ya.”

7 o’clock eve. The table was set with a white table cloth. A centerpiece of fresh flowers. The candles were lit. My hair was flowing soft, my green mask gone. I had lotioned my body and the air was filled with frankincense and myrrh. A love song played in the back ground, "I Love You Just The Way You Are" by Barry White. This man of mine had deposited little kisses all day long on my body parts, and his investment was going to pay off. He gets a big bonus.

The door opens. He stands there, hesitating to come in because of the atmosphere, looking around to see if other people were there. I cupped one arm behind my head and struck a Marilyn Monroe pose and waltzed over to him in the sexy walk I had practiced. And Barry White sang…"Don't go changing, tryin' to please me, I love you just the way you are."

I wet my lips and pulled him in by his tie. We danced, living in the moment with a long, tender kiss. He broke away to remove the keys he had left in the lock, and closed the door. And nobody knows what goes on 'Behind closed doors'.

A note to Senior Citizen Hubbers....I know you are thinking about the simple kisses in your life. Why don't you write about them. I did.