There was at one time a series of ultra-cute cartoons titled 'Love is...' and concluding with phrases like 'when she lets you have the very last bite of cake.'
In our case, love is when your wife listens as you lie in bed, talking about why a comment in a New York Times business article, on the need for acquisition as a primary growth vehicle for very large companies, was spot-on, and on the article's observationthat very good growth companies tend to be good at acquiring information about their environments and the trends shaping that environment, and then working that information into their plans, permeating the organization with it. And when you muse on why it might be that you haven't seen that in your own organization, and talk a bit about the communication styles of organizations, she doesn't groan even once.
Now, that's love.
7 comments:
Sounds like this calls for a batch of flowers or something...Love is, when he arrives home not empty handed.
Ha Ha! My hubby does the same thing at night talking about his field of work, but it is usually a passionate treatise on how well the meeting went once he had them see the vision of things and change direction.
Well, S, I have to admit that I have once or twice done the 'abject spouse with flowers' bit -- but way more often have done it just because she's special to me. That she's willing to listen to me talk about things that are important to me, but rather less so to her, is just one of the reasons why.
And yes, she's given me flowers, too...for about the same reason.
And T, anyone who can improve the flow of a meeting is okay in my book.... and if they can get me out of there fast, even better.
This made me laugh, because every once in a while, not often, my hsuband will go on about some subject I'm not interested in and I will listen, thinking all the while "I'm totally not interested in this but he is such a great husband and father I owe him the courtesy of lending him an ear".
This is also the reason I keep my mouth shut to this day when he puts a really greasy, spaghetti sauce covered plate in my kitchen sink full of clean, bubbley water, without rinsing it off first.
Umm...yeah. I knew you're supposed to do that....
Like the Westerners going to Japanese bathhouses and assuming the big tub of hot water is to wash in, right?
Love is....remembering the little things.
....which is why I love..um...what was her name again? (I do truly believe this is why one guy I know always calls his wife Dear.)
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