How to Love a Woman . . .

Strange where thoughts and memories come from.

I’ll reveal how, when, and why these thoughts occurred to me at the end of this little narrative.

Do you remember when you first fell in love with the lady in your life? How you would spend hours together, doing things for one another, not able to wait to see her again? And how you wanted to do something special for her, and with her?

Compare that to now . . . where we’ve likely adapted to “the old married couple” syndrome.

The love is still there . . . the affection . . . sometimes, the intimacy. But, chances are, we’ve begun to take each other for granted. The “special” moments and the “special” surprises seem to have slipped away to where they occur seldom, or not at all.

Perhaps it’s time to go back to the ‘good old days’ and resurrect that warmth, that passion, that newness of a hot romance . . .

Here’s one idea:

ATTENTION LADIES: Kindly avert your eyes. DO NOT READ WHAT I AM ABOUT TO WRITE. It will absolutely spoil the experience for you. Plus, if you read this sacred and secret screed that is meant only for the eyes of MEN . . . then a dreaded punishment awaits you.

a. You shall gain 15 lbs.
b. Crows feet and other unsightly lines of age will suddenly appear, in addition to those you might already possess.
c. Your voice will become shrieky and unwieldy . . . sounding much like a badgering, dithering old crone of a woman who has naught to do but complain in a witchlike cackle.

FOR MEN ONLY:
a. This is an operation that requires timing and logistics.
b. You have to arrange for the lady love of your life to be absent from the home for a good four or five hours.
c. The following operation, named OPERATION ROSES is classified as TOP SECRET. It worked out just fine. Here’s how it went:

I knew that evelyn had some event planned. I don’t remember now whether it was a sorority thingie, or a Kiwanis thingie. No matter. She was going to be gone from the house for a good four or five hours.

We had breakfast, she left for her appointed task . . . and I got busy.

I drove to the coast, to a wholesale florist’s supply warehouse. I bought 144 long stem roses. I also bought about a dozen vases in which to place the roses.

I stopped at a convenient liquor store and bought a very expensive bottle of champagne.

I went home . . . sorted out all 144 roses and placed them in their vases.

I then placed the vases about 10’ apart, in a line, all of which led from the front door, then down the hall, toward our bedroom, and to the master bath. In the master bath I had a tub, filled with ice. I placed the champagne on ice and waited. Most of my work was done.

About an hour before evelyn was due home I called her on her cell phone. I told her it was CRITICALLY IMPORTANT that she call me 10 minutes before she arrived home. “Do not forget,” I told her. “This is really, really important. You must call me 10 minutes before you arrive home. It has to do with a surprise.”

Sure enough, the phone rang and she told me she was about 10 minutes away. I went into the master bath, opened the champagne, placed two champagne glasses nearby. I then poured a nice, hot, bath and dumped bubble bath lotion into the tub (this was done about five minutes prior to her anticipated arrival. I didn’t want the bath water to cool off too much.)

I backtracked, making certain everything was in place and just so. I awaited Her Majesty’s arrival.

In time, her car pulled into the driveway and she came to the door, where I met her. I handed her a bouquet of roses. “Oh, roses! What a wonderful surprise!” she said. Then she saw the first vase of roses . . . . and then the next. And the next. I took her by the hand and led her down the hall, counting the vases of roses as we went.

I think she was pleasantly surprised.

And then we reached the Master Bathroom . . . . and there, in its resplendent glory, was a tub full of bubbles, invitingly close by. I poured us each a glass of champagne. We toasted each other and drank it down.

I’m not sure . . . but I think she kissed me. On the cheek, probably.

I withdrew from milady’s bath so that she might properly enjoy her bubble bath and sip on her glass of champagne. From time to time she would call me and ask me to refill her glass of champagne.

Did you ever notice how champagne sometimes makes you all giggly? Or romantic? Or both?

Time dims the memory now . . . but we may, in fact, have gotten a bit giggly. And maybe even a bit romantic. I may have even wound up taking a bubble bath. But I forget.

OPERATION ROSES was a success. Ms. Madison had a smile on her face for several months.

Sadly, however, we don’t have as many OPERATION ROSES in our life as we should. We men need to remedy that. I leave it to you to be creative and come up with something that might bring some happiness to your lady’s life.

Now . . . I told you at the beginning I’d tell you how, when, and why I resurrected this memory.

It was because of Trixie, my adorable little puppy.

I often hold Trixie in my arms and talk to her.

“Have I told you today that I love you?”

She looks at me with those beautiful brown eyes and kisses me.

“Do you know how happy you make your daddy?”

Same beautiful brown eyes . . . and yet another kiss.

“Do you know my life was not complete before you entered it?”

Same eyes, same kisses.

“I love you so much!”

And then it hit me.

I say all these loving things to my puppy . . . but when was the last time I said something like that to evelyn? Oh, I tell her I think she looks pretty all the time. I often tell her I think she’s even pretty without makeup on, that I think she has a naturally pretty face. I tell her how pretty her toes are, after she comes home from a pedicure. And how pretty her fingers are after she’s had a manicure. I compliment her on dresses I like and on the shoes or, more often, sandals, she wears. (But I also tell her when she needs to change shoes or sandals, that they just don’t look right. It’s a man thing).

We’ve been a couple for almost 10 years now. We had what amounted to a five year honeymoon. Honest! And then we began to settle into the “old married couple” syndrome. We still care deeply for one another. But I don’t say the things I say to evelyn the things I say to Trixie.

It’s just kinda been ‘understood.’

I think it’s time for lyle to assemble another SPECIAL OPERATION for Ms. Madison. I can’t do the OPERATION ROSES plan again. It’s been done. I shall exercise my creative powers and go to work on it.

Perhaps you men have a similar story. If so, TELL! We can all learn and perhaps surprise that special lady in our lives. Once again.

AND NOW, LADIES, thank you for not reading any of this message. I just knew I could count on you.

Thou shalt NOT have wrinkles, excess fat, or screechy witch-like voices. Unless, of course, you read the above sacred and secret writings.

It is so ordered:

lyle