He loves me, he loves me not

He said "I love you today". He was joking. We had just finished lunch (the second meal of the day he cooked for me) and I was going to do the dishes when the dryer beeped. He said he would do dishes if I did the sheets. I'm not sure why he doesn't like to make the bed. Fitted sheets are so easy. When I told him I was going to do the sheets anyway, he said "I love you". I forget my response. I think I gave him the eyebrow and rolled my eyes before taking the sheets out of the dryer. I might have said "you're such an ass" but I might only have thought it. He laughed.

Perhaps that all sounds horrible but it was funny. We had a great weekend. Saturday morning was dim sum followed by a movie and a non-nap. He called me a suction cup. I got my hair done and then we went off to a black tie event at the Royal York. He said I looked fine when we left the apartment. And later that night, he told me again that I looked great. He looked good too. The food was good, his coworkers were fun, the silent auction was a disaster but only because he's stubborn and impulsive. We danced together and laughed together and didn't get drunk. The best part was getting home before midnight and taking all 90 bobby pins out of my head. When I got out of the shower and was brushing my teeth in my pajamas, he said "you look great". I was so touched. I really think I'm crazy about him. He takes my breath away.

Today we had breakfast and lunch and watched a movie and did some work. We sat on the balcony and looked through the telescope and cleaned some old clothes out of his closet. It was comfortable and easy and would have been the perfect Sunday if we had rounded it out with dinner. We didn't leave the apartment at all. We did laundry and vacuumed and dishes and made out. The Scrabble game was brutal and made me feel stupid. And the play fighting got a little rough but it's nice to know he has that kind of energy at his age. He took care of me beyond anything I could have expected. He made sure I ate with all of my painkillers. Asked me if I was okay when I put my hand on my stomach. It might be time to start thinking of a name for this blog. Is that going to jinx it?