A dear friend suggested I try writing a Tiny Love Story, as published by the New York Times: a true story of love in 100 words or less. I did not submit this for publication since I could not make it shorter than 142 words, but it was a wonderful creative exercise… and a true story.
At the grocery store, we realized I had accidentally destroyed Derek’s car: I had used my metal-tipped windshield scraper to remove snow during the winter.
My pride ached more than the pure humiliation of a stupid mistake (I had two college degrees! I educated children!). I had been determined to prove I could handle everything during his deployment. Paperwork. Finances. Us.
Now, I stood over Brussel sprouts, wondering if I was qualified to choose the freshest ones.
Before unpacking groceries, Derek stopped me.
I love you.
I’m not mad.
He danced me around the kitchen until I laughed.
Later, Derek suggested pizza. I insisted on cooking to show my appreciation. Three bites in, and we realized I possibly, accidentally had given us food poisoning.
Well, if that happens, we’ll just poop it out together.
Our Pizza Hut was the best pizza ever.
