Gestures

I have been remiss in taking note of the lovely unconventionally romantic things that the Husband does for me with his own version of quiet regularity.

This week it was poached eggs.

I love poached eggs but I do not love them enough to actually make them for myself. They are a pain. But I had made a big batch of crumpets (for eating with jam because what could be better than a warm toasty crumpet with jam?) and the Husband, rightly so, thought that a warm simple dinner of poached eggs and crumpets would be delicious and so he made it for me.

And it was.

And then he did the dishes.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.