Of unsound mind...

When WC and I first started hanging out and I was simply excited to have won the wooing, I didn't notice that he always grabbed my hand before we crossed a street because I was just excited he was grabbing my hand. And I didn't exactly notice that he'd let go once we reached the other side because I was sad and confused that he so obviously liked me and then 10 seconds later ceased the liking. Somewhere around month 3 I noticed the pattern and without thinking blurted that I am not, in fact, a child and do know how to look both ways before crossing a street.

Way to squash a sweet and chivalrous gesture, asshole! 

He still hesitates sometimes, and I try to ignore it because talking about things never helps. Often, but not always, he just grabs my hand regardless of the self-doubt I gave him because he's over worrying about me feeling patronized and wants to make sure I get across the street safely; and all I really want him to do is not let go once we've reached the other side. Plus... I really am a danger to myself.  

It is likely that I will die in an auto vs pedestrian accident that is at least 37% my fault. Last night WC came to pick me up for dinner and was waiting in his car in the loading zone in front of my building. It was snowing (AGAIN!) and the roads were icy and gross so I was watching my feet to make sure I didn't slip and fall (?). As I approached the corner of his truck it didn't occur to me to make sure oncoming traffic wasn't about to threaten my life and I looked up to find I was about a step away from being a sad squirrel. WC was furious at the car who was certainly going way too fast for the conditions, but still... I'm an idiot. 

It is because of such realizations that I am slowly learning to hear his worry and not be immediately defensive, but to understand that he truly wants me to not die which is incredibly sweet because I don't really want to die, either. 

Recently, he was concerned I couldn't change a lightbulb because 3 of the bulbs were out in the bathroom. Instead of being offended that he assumed I'd had help changing every lightbulb ever blown in the 18 years since I moved out of my parents' house, my response was more matter of fact: "Two bulbs are just enough light to not to stab myself in the eye with the mascara wand, but not so much that I can see much else." 

However, when the light bulb in the kitchen that points directly into my refrigerator burnt out, I prepared for immediate replacement. After texting WC, of course. (Edited for brevity; and slightly for grammar so we don't look like idiots, but not so much you think we're text-perfectionists):

VIB

Me: FYI: I changed this bulb immediately after it burnt out. 

Him: Was it in a safe manner? My father used to get on a ladder, no support, one hand holding a chain saw chopping on trees. I assume you didn't have a chain saw...

Me: First I broke a glass and left all the shards everywhere. Then I used a ladder that was too short so I put on some heels to give me lift but I was still too short so I had to leap. 

I also rubbed by hands in water and just kept sticking my finger in the sockets. 

Him: That's about right. All the while a towel is on top of the stove and the fat cat is turning the stove knob on.

Me: Precisely. 

Him: The only thing I don't believe true is the heels part. I can't even get you to try on stripper shoes in a store for fun! Why would I think you would ever use those. You were just being ridiculous with that part!

Me (indignant): I HAVE put on heels to reach things. (Why am I suddenly proud of how unsafe I am?) And NEVER have you taken me to a stripper shoe store! 

For fun or otherwise. 

Him: Correct. I have not taken you to a stripper shoe store, it's now an agenda item. But, yes, you have been asked to put on resemblances of these shoes in your fav shoe store. 

Me: I protest. I was not aware that failing to try them on would be a future indicator of how reckless I am or am not when performing minor home updates. (I probably didn't try them on because we were on our way to get ice cream and a girl has priorities.)

(Many hours later)

Him: In front. Take your time, but it's a slick slut out here... leave the stripper heels in the closet. 

He knows how to woo a girl. 

Here's what I know: I will be killed by a car and it will probably be my fault. WC is sweet and chivalrous and I have trouble letting people take care of me. (Also I have a REALLY hard time not talking about him publicly because he's awesome). Shopping for swimsuits online is for the skinny. Or the predictably shaped. Or for anyone but me. Wine is always good with dinner even if dinner is yogurt and granola.

And I have terrible judgement in love songs. If it's a catchy break-up song or sweet little love song I will play it on repeat for days. Maybe it's my desire to find that great love that will result in a soul crushingly beautiful break up?

(Boy - Little Numbers... The indie girl's "Call me, Maybe.")

Watch the video. It's wicked cute.