It’s been over a year since O’Ceallaigh first showed up at my door with his heart in his hand. There’s been a few changes since then. For instance, nowadays when he shows up at the door, his hands are usually full of musical equipment and he needs help turning the knob. Of course, that is a minor change. His first visit also featured the trumpet. From the beginning it has been my rival for his affections. We have learned to tolerate each other.
Lately there has been another, more subtle change. We still sit on the couch side-by-side. We still hold hands. We still exchange kisses and soft touches as we pass by each other, but —
I asked him if he was ready for his nightly ice cream. He said he was, then he ordered a cup of tea as well. Occasionally, when I tell him what the dinner menu is, he requests substitutions. At such times I often suggest he call a waitress. Other times I tell him we are calling a waitress because I don’t feel like cooking.
We also make decisions for each other. I have been known to critique his apparel and send him to change. He has done the same to me. He tells me when to carry an umbrella and scolds me for forgetting my (fill-in-the-blank). He has learned to tolerate my camera. I’ve (mostly) gotten used to his thinking out loud.
We know when to talk and when to shut up. We know when a hug is needed more than words. We know when to help and when to back off. We know when to say, “I’m sorry.”
We know we are loved.
If A is a singular article, and couple is a plural noun, then a couple must be a singular plural.
Happy Birthday, Hon. I love you.