I may throw my husband under the bus every once in a while (see previous post) because it is entertaining. Even though I do that and poke fun at him and confound him with references to ‘the contract’, torment him with the disjointed flow of things that pop into my head, the chaos that he frequently comes home to, and my choice in music that I like to play at excessive volume, he remains smitten.  I know this, not because he brings home flowers or showers me with jewelry but because of the things he does in the day to bring little bits of happiness.  Every morning he makes me two thermoses of tea (hot tea makes me happy) and he tidies my post-baking/cooking debris field.  Now that the cold weather has found us, I am in my annual constantly cold state.  From now until May or June my feet are sub-artic temperature-wise, and the rest of me isn’t much warmer.  Last night as I crawled into bed, my body radiating coldness, I burrowed under the covers and discovered my dear man had placed a hot water bottle in my spot, pre-warming it for my shivering form AND giving me something to tuck my feet around to take the edge off the cold so I could sleep, hot water bottle happiness.  He must really love me… or maybe he was practising some self preservation.