He was a tall, rugged looking guy in a beat-up pair of jeans. But none of that mattered. What mattered was the bundle of blooms he held upright in his hands. A bit of an amateur, the smile, the carry, that much I could tell.
Today, it was my day. The door opened and in rolled my guy in his chair. I saw the grin on his face, the same one I see every day. But then, as he swung around? I heard a hint of a rattling sound. A crimson bundle was sitting on top of his lap. The occasion? Well, none really. He is so not an amateur. And that is what I love most. You see with my guy, I've learned to expect the unexpected, to savor the small things for sure. But two dozen roses? I'm spoiled right down to the core!
What surprises have you found waiting inside your front door?