The Home Fire is Surely Burning

I walked up to my house in the dark last night. Just  on the stroke of 9. I was alone. Sans children. I had been so for the past 3 hours. It was my Knit Knight, you see. I was returning to my Jungle Man, and I felt so exhilarated after having been given the night off.

My key in the lock. The knob turned. My door opened. My Jungle Man heard and met me there at the door. A big smile on his face, asking me how it all went. As I followed him into the house, he sat down and turned the show off he had been watching. He sat there, smiling as I related the events of the night (we knitters are a wild, crazy, sarcastic lot I tell ya.). He then shared with me the goings on of the kids and what they did while I was away.

Once we settled down to watch the show (Season 6, episode 3, Star Gate: SG1. It rocks. 'Nuff said.) We cuddled as he kept kissing the top of my head. (silly guy) Then we paused for the dog's potty break, and we teased and bantered as he made us both some Ramen Soup and hot green tea. He lovingly added my honey and stirred into the tea before handing me both the tea and my bowl of soup. He would smile as I slurped it down. (He thinks I'm cute)

When the episode was over, it was my "bed time".
(Now this needs explaining. I have my "bed time" each night. This means that I sleep loooooong before he does. I get up each day at 6am, and he sleeps in until 10. So I sleep for a few hours on couch, and he'll wake me so we can go to bed together.)
So he walks up stairs, gets my favourite blanket- the one my grandmother made by hand that's so extra soft and cozy- and proceeds to tuck me in with a kiss goodnight.

As I lay there, listening to the next episode of SG1 begin, I marvel at the love this man has for me. His desire to protect  me is so very strong. He loves to take care of me. I am completely secure knowing that he thinks   first of our family in all that he does.

He asks so little in return for all of this. I honor him as my head. I endeavor to see that his needs are met (hot tea each and every morning for one) and that his children and his home are taken care of in a manner which will please him.

Politically correct? Not on your life!
Does it bring me happiness? You bet your pretty little bonnet!

So, gentles all, I am a most wonderfully spoiled woman.
And I couldn't trade it for a castle or crown anywhere.