He used to bring me flowers.
I complained that they cost too much. And died too soon.
He moved through various and sundry ways of saying, “I love you” but none got quite the reaction he hoped for.
Recently he’s hit on something that I just. can’t. seem. to. refuse.
No, not fancy candy. I’m too much of a cheap date for high-dolla candy. My man brings me candy bars.
And not just the standard, old-school size.
He loves me king-size.
He doesn’t indulge me all the time, less I become spoiled (and
chun-kay diabetic). But about once a month, he’ll surprise me.
On those nights, he’ll come home, QT bag in hand, grin on his face.
He’s never looked more handsome.