Love Deciphered

I look at the scabby picture of Lilo & Stich on my arm and resist scrubbing it off. I think about Tomoko, the boy who put it there with genuine kindness in his heart.

Hear this, world:

If I let you put a fake tattoo from a dollar lollipop on my arm,
it means I must really love you.

All you need is love and ph

And it reminds me:

If I ask you about sports or talk about somebody famous and pop-star-like, it’s not because I care. It’s because you care,
and I love you.

If I spend a weekend in a gym watching basketball or volleyball,
it means I love you.

If we detour for coffee, chocolate milk, or milkshakes,
it just means I love you!

I also love Timmys'...
I also love Timmys’…

If I spend an evening watching sci-fi or chick flicks even though they’re dumb, it’s because
I love you. 

If the car comes home washed and vacuumed, it’s because I’m saying I love you
but also – the french fries under the seat are gross.

If I share my drink with you, (or anything that comes in contact with my mouth)
it means I love you.

If I offer to go grocery shopping or do some Christmas wrapping, you think  it’s because I love you but
I really just like like driving and wrapping.

If you’re invited for a ridiculous adventure of counting cows or stalking marmots, I do know how odd it may be, but I invite you anyways;  ’cause you see…
I just love you.

Stalking Marmots. Yes, it happened.
Stalking Marmots. Yes, it happened.

If I call you “Freakface”, “Doorknob” or “Dork”, it’s because I like them better than the famous three words. They mean the same thing.

It’s because I love you.

And if I let you paint my fingernails, it means I love you.
If I let you paint my fingernails pink and sparkly?
It must mean I really, really

love you.

fingernails
Pink. Sparkles. All ten.

What about you? How do YOU say  “I love you”?

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