I suppose it means to come home to sparkling clean and re-decorated bathrooms, complete with matching towels and bathmats. to be loved.
He knows how to get to my heart.
Or maybe it means a quirky little smile from the stand when the kids are climbing on my head at one end of the pew and perfecting the art of KungFu on the other; and hearing his sympathetic grin and focused glance scream across the congregation that he thinks I'm beautiful. And graceful...in sunday meeting scolding.
I guess it's the generous surplus of covers and body heat when I shiver.
Or the kiss and the chuckle when we have leftovers and tantrums for dinner. Again.
I think it's that he told me I'd be a hot rockstar; and left out the part about the obvious scheduling conflict the tour would create. He's so supportive.
Or when he makes me try all his new work-out tortures, and only cheers with support when my plank isn't so steady.
I suppose it could be the empty laundry room.
But really...it's when he peeled me a pomegranite tonight. I knew he loved me.