I found my Bryan, but I still dream about love, like last spring when a Downton Abbey character romanced my subconscious. Period dramas must be man’s most powerful aphrodisiac because yesterday I saw Les Miserables with Ian, and I came home with a belly full of popcorn, catchy melodies stuck in my head, and a big crush on Mr. Eddie Redmayne as
Period dramas may also be the world’s leading source of male eye-rolls. Case in point - last night:
As I climbed into bed, waiting for Ian to join me, I turned my body towards the darkness of the wall, closed my eyes, and thought of my bespeckled British beau holding his beloved Cosette in his arms. As I played that final scene over and over again in my head, my body felt light and tingly from those old familiar feelings of imaginary romance.
I turned away from the wall and looked over at my husband, who was sitting on the a stool in his underwear, glasses slid down his nose, assembling a thousand-piece Titanic puzzle while humming “My Heart Will Go On.”
I smiled through my mouthguard, “Hey baby?”
“I have a really bad crush on Eddie Redmayne in Les Mis right now.”
I waited a moment to hear a proclamation of love before prompting him, “So...Do you love me like Marius loved Cosette?”
Ian walked over and climbed under the comforter with me. “Baby, he knew her for a hot minute before he fell for her. All she said to him was ‘I’m Cosette,’ and he was like ‘Ohmigosh she’s perfect.’”
“But, but he sang about her...” I sputtered out in protest.
“Annie,” he said firmly, “He obviously just wanted to get into her pants.”
“Well, it worked.”
Ian’s logic was killing my romance buzz, but he continued anyway, “And while we’re on the subject, Romeo and Juliet should have also taken the time to get to know each other because, you know what?” He pointed at me for emphasis, “If you were Juliet lying in the tomb, I totally would have known that that was your sleeping face!”
I pulled our blanket up over my mouth to muffle my loud laughs from the neighbors.
Eric and Dmitri twirled their pretty ladies around, and Marius held Cosette in his arms, but making someone laugh is way more difficult. And my guy sits in his underwear doing puzzles and humming James Horner movie scores. Maybe laughter is the best kind of romance.