Next time, just tell me NO!

Oh Man, my Man...

What have you done?

When I looked to you with desperate eyes, over the heads of our children, you knew what I wanted and you knew the sacrifice that would have to be made to provide for my needs. You knew the cost and still, you decided to do what needed to be done.

"You're sure?" you asked, and when I hesitantly nodded, you headed to the freezer section at the grocery store when you could have been heading for the couch. It had already been a rather long day by normal standards, and a longer one yet because it was Wednesday and Wednesdays are always more difficult to put to bed.

"If they're on special, bring me back two!" I yelled in jest after him, to display some confidence in my choice. In for a penny, in for five pounds right?

The cost of this mission, aside from leaving one's home after what was an already late dinner with the children? I'd estimate the cost of your mission of mercy to be less than $5.00 but I'd be wrong since you really did bring back two pints of sorbet for me, one mango and one raspberry and let us not forget the modest one pint of strawberry you brought home for the purposes of companion eating.

Aside from the monetary cost of your very important mission there is that cost of the calories of your sorbet that you only ate to keep me company because we both know, nobody likes to eat alone AND nobody likes to watch another person eat alone. Thanks, I appreciate your sacrifice.

You know what else you're likely to suffer because you indulged my whim? You're gonna have to listen to me whine in the morning (if I wait that long) about having eaten a whole pint of mango sorbet while planted on the couch this evening (I'm saving the raspberry for future needful moments). You're going to be pretty miffed with yourself too, for the strawberry, I mean.

Yet because of our current fitness plans, which were of your design if I recall, we won't have to beat ourselves up too long for our dietary indiscretions. We do however need to work off the damage incurred this evening on the couch. Fear not, my love, provider of not one but two pints of fruited sorbet, I have a plan...

Tomorrow morning when the alarm sounds and I do the "you've-got-to-be-kidding-me-its-morning-already?" roll over, you should let me sleep and you, Prince Charming, should rise up and go jogging. Yes, I know tomorrow is the day I'm supposed to go out and about for a mile or two, but really I think it only right for you to go and to go on my behalf, you are after all the one who brought home the contraband!

I love you dearly my Man, I do. You are waaaaayyyyy too good to me, you always have been and I'm confident of your future indulgences on my behalf. Next time however, when I'm run down and weak, next time when my weary Wednesday eyes meet yours, and I say those magic words, "You wanna make a store run?" Next time, look me directly in the eyes and tell me "NO!" I promise I will eventually unwrap my arms from around your ankles and get over it and move on.

Really, dear Man o'mine, tonight as I drift to sleep with a belly full of sorbet and a heart full of appreciation for your frequent acts of chivalry I am deeply thankful. Thankful that you taught me how to run a little between bouts of walking and then cheered me on until I began walking a little between bouts of running. You've not yet taught me to run as far as you do or as diligently, but if you keep bringin' me sorbet I'll soon learn!

I know the cost of bringing me sorbet is nothing compared to the cost of bringing me along to the gym with you, letting me in on your time to yourself, and then cheering me on when there wasn't much to cheer about. I just want you to know...that I know and that I'm so awfully grateful.

Have a super run in the morning darling, and please, please get up quietly!

Love,
Your Sorbet Gal