Spaaaaaah

The other night driving home from somewhere with Chad, he said the words I long for him to speak.

Not, "I love you." Not, "You look gorgeous tonight." Not, "I'm the luckiest man alive to have married you."

Nope. He said, "Want to go get massages this weekend?"

Then the angels starting singing. I have this semi-obsession with massages, spas, being pampered, etc. Shocking isn't it? I'm just a spa girl, I guess. I'm the person that pays extra to get waxed at a spa instead of a hair/nail salon just so I can sit in the special room, listen to calming music and drink herbal teas.

Chad has been super stressed out from work lately - which is why he probably really needs a massage. He just knows better than to try to get one without me. If I were selfless I'd say, "Oh no honey... let's save the money. You can go get one...I'll be fine."

It's just that I really, really, really want to go too. I'll save selfless for something else.