A Romantic Interruption

Jamie. Yes, the man grows giant pumpkins. Yes, he seems to work 24/7. But he has always done remarkably well in the romance department, for which I am grateful.

One year, he surprised me with a getaway to a gorgeous cabin in Breckenridge. Another time, it was the St. Julien in Boulder. Another favorite was the scavenger hunt that led us to the Lumber Baron Inn.

For his most recent surprise, he told me I needed a nap because we’d be staying out late.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I have to be in bed by 11 p.m.”
“That’s why you need to take a nap.”
I continued, “Cuz if I stay up past then, this Cinderella will turn into a pumpkin.”

For any other guy, this analogy would work. Not for a giant pumpkin grower. He deviously grinned and queried, “How big?”

That afternoon, I took a nap.

We dropped the kiddos off at Aunt Lisa’s for a sleepover and he told me we were going to dinner in downtown Denver. We parked the car in a lot across from the Brown Palace, the luxurious, historic hotel where we spent our wedding night.

I casually asked, “Are we going to the Brown Palace?”
“No, but we have a few minutes before our dinner reservation so why don’t we pop over?”

I was excited to go on a stroll down memory lane so we toured around the opulent lobby, bursting with energy during Afternoon Tea.

“Why don’t we go up to the top floor and look down?” he suggested. I gamely followed him in the elevator. When we arrived at the eighth floor, he pulled out a piece of paper for me to read–a wonderful love note reminiscing the start of our lives together. He then led me over to a door, opened it with a key card and there, in the corner suite, there awaited our luggage and a menagerie of candles.

Jamie had snuck over earlier in the day (he told me he had a work meeting) to check-in and set everything up. He had even brought our Magic Bullet to make Pina Colada smoothies!
Dude should totally go on one of those shows about how to romance a woman.

That night, we headed over to Larimer Square and dined at Tag, an ultra-hip and chic restaurant and then strolled around 16th Street Mall, Denver’s popular pedestrian area. He spared no expense in showing us a good time.

Really, the only things he overlooked were my personal items.  Of course, I didn’t want to complain because he’d gone to all the trouble to set everything up. But on his surprise getaways, it would be swell if he could bring a few of my overnight items (especially since he came armed with a carry-on with some of his own). Though he did make a gesture.

“It would be nice if I had some make-up,” I commented the next morning.

“I did bring you make-up,” he said proudly as he pointed to the lone eye liner pencil he’d put in his hygiene bag.

I inwardly laughed he thought that’s all I needed.  Next time, I’ll just hope for a toothbrush and call it good.

Because his romantic gestures definitely are.

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