It didn't snow, but look! Mr. Pear's beard is so neatly trimmed!
This morning he had a little remnant of his breakfast caught in there - nothing slimy or gross - a mere crumb.
He leaned in for a kiss, "Ack! There's something in your beard!"
He gives it a swipe. Wrong side.
"Just get it for me!"
"You get..." I reach over and flick it off. It's all I can do for the man who recently picked the sodden tissue remains of a toilet seat cover off my arse. Yeah. It's like that. He made no comment, just gently supported me with one arm, while reaching around and unpeeling the offending bits of paper with the other. Don't worry, I don't generally require such assistance - this was post-surgery a few weeks, me tottering around at the hospital not quite myself.
Just one of the reasons he makes me a very happy lady;)
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