JERRY MCGUIRE COOKS DINNER
“Your Monday night spaghetti completes me.”
AND THEN HE TAKES OUT THE TRASH
“You had me at emptying the diaper genie.”
“I’m so cold. I can’t feel my body. Can I put my ice-cold feet next to your feet? I promise - I’ll never let go! You’re so warm. You’re so sexy when you’re warm.”
PRETTY WOMAN ON DATE NIGHT
“In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight.”
GONE WITH THE GUTTERS
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn about home maintenance, but fiddle-dee-dee you look fine with that leaf-blower.”
“We’ll always have Paris. Which is even better than the Vegas brochure said it would be.”
DIRTY DANCING “Nobody puts baby’s dirty laundry in the basket. And if you would just put baby’s laundry – and even your own laundry – in the vicinity of this here green basket? That would be so hot.”
WHEN HARRY LET SALLY SLEEP IN
“You know how your face turns blue trying to unite the clans of economics and government and business inside my irrational female mind? It’s really cute. It’d be even cuter if you wore a tartan and had a scraggle-mullet.”
SLEEPLESS IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA
“I tell you what. You get up with him the next two times he cries and maybe I’ll make dinner once this week.”
“Love means optional showers. And optional shaving. And discussing how regular you are.”
“You sneak up behind me one more time while I’m at the potter’s wheel…oh, wait, you made me a grilled cheese? Thanks, hon.”
FROM HERE TO AN ETERNAL AMOUNT OF SAND IN YOUR CREVICES
“Should we be romantic and make out in the sand with waves lapping at our feet? I know. There are so many mosquitoes out. And isn’t this turtle nesting season?”
Here’s to keeping romance alive.
But not so alive as it wakes the child down the hall.
Tarja Parssinen is a freelance writer and stay-at-home-mom to a toddler who gives new meaning to the word “spirited.” Once, long, long ago, she was relegated to both funny AND slutty roles as a member of Cornell University’s sketch comedy group, The Skits-O-Phrenics. She is frighteningly comfortable in karaoke lounges and believes in the healing power of full-fat cheese. Much to her embarrassment, she has entered the blogosphere. Stop on by at www.theflyingchalupa.com.