the chauffeur

It was a long flight. Well, set of flights. And after traveling back from the west coast that day I walked off the terminal shuttle in that typical traveler stupor that seems to come along with a day full of sitting next to strangers and breathing shared air. Ready to see Ben. Ready for my own bed. And ready to be done carrying what felt like the contents of my entire life (yay for over packing!) in a far-too-large-for-three-days suitcase. But as I rounded the corner to head downstairs before meeting Ben outside, I stopped dead in my tracks and started laughing uncontrollably, in that “I’m sure strangers were staring” far too loud way.

There, standing at the shuttle exit was my husband, dressed as the tackiest chauffeur you ever did see. He had taken his baggiest, worst old suit from the back of the closet, popped on an incredibly wide and colorful tie, and dug his cruise captain’s hat out from hiding. To top it off he even brought an old school clipboard, and wrote out my (and my sweet friend’s ) maiden names. (ya know, in case I couldn’t recognize him behind his very authentic costume).

And even though he looked so silly, and I could barely kiss him hello through the gasps of air I squeezed in between wheezing laughs, my eyes seemed to get a little teary. Because while this was the funniest thing ever, it was also such an amazing reminder of why I love this man. Not only because he always finds new ways to surprise me, but because he is so indifferent to what anyone ever thinks. He balances me in that way. I could never in a million years stand in the airport for 30 minutes, in a ridiculous costume of my own making, with strangers looking at me. But that night at the airport, Ben wasn’t concerned with how he looked to everyone else. He was only thinking about how he would look to me.

And to me, he looked perfect.

Love + Laughs (and Happy Wednesday!),

Sarah