Chick Flicks are Dangerous

This post is a break from my usual topic of adoption but I thought it was a good topic for around Valentine's Day and it is still about family (and my weird quirks.)


I love chick flicks. I love curling up with a blanket and a nice glass of red wine (solo or with a friend or two) to sob as I watch a chick flick. It could be rented, owned, or even on Lifetime if I am desperate -- I say desperate here because I have already watched most of these movies. 


In the last year, however, I have noticed that chick flicks are dangerous. When I am done watching them, I find that I am angry or especially irritated with my husband. It's like I think he should be more like the men in these movies.


Seriously? What do you expect, Tanya? 


Do you really think that Brent is going choreographer a dance for all of his friends and family to perform as you wait for him to dance to you on stage? And then you can run to him and he can dangerously lift you over his head while everyone claps?


Do you really think that he will buy an old house by the lake and restore it for you just the way you want it? And take you on a rowboat on the lake in the middle of a bunch of birds, write you love letters everyday for a year, and read to you your love story everyday when you have dementia?


Do you really think that he will give you credit cards to buy all of the clothes you want on Rodeo Drive? And show up at your apartment in a limo playing opera and climb the fire escape just to be with you? (Definitely not this scenario as it would make me a "working girl.")


I am not delusional and I don't want any of those specific scenes from a chick flick. What I am attracted to is that all of these fictional men have this amazing love for their women. It appears they would do anything to show their love. 


The truth is, my husband does that too. Just not in the obvious, scripted, dramatic fashion of a classic chick flick.


I am forced to search a little more and look a little harder.
*Like when he does ALL of our laundry on the weekends and perfectly folds and organizes it into our closets,
*When he cleans out the fridge because he knows food in containers make me gag (I am a freak, I know),
*When he shovels the driveway because frequently the snowblower isn't working,
*When he starts my car so I won't be cold,
*When he says my cooking is better than any restaurant,
*When he monitors my checking account because I am often to busy to do it,
*When he knows that I need a break because I have been with 2 teething children all day and all night so he tells me to go get a chai tea.


I could go on and on. Maybe these things wouldn't make a good chick flick but at least I don't have to be angry anymore because it is obvious that my husband loves me. I just had to be more observant. Still, it is probably a good time to take a break from the chick flick. I am sure Brent has some alien-eating, ghost-hunting, ape-talking, robot-fighting movie waiting for us upstairs. 
Happy Valentine's Day!