A Simple Gesture

If there's one thing I've learned over the past eight years of marriage, it's that it doesn't take a dozen roses and an airplane writing in smoke across the sky in to demonstrate love perfectly.

For me, and I think most people, love is about all of those gestures we don't stop to think about - the kind we easily take for granted.

Please bear with me -

When we first moved into this house, we quickly realized that we needed some sort of system in the bathroom - a hook, a bar, a table, whatever next to our shower.  Our bathroom was one of the many reasons we knew this was "the" house.  Without meaning to brag, it's just it.

Except for the little fact that when someone emerged from the shower without the help of a little hook, bar, table, whatever nearby to provide quick access to a bath towel, it was a bit of a hike to the nearest linen cabinet.  Those are, quite possibly, the coldest four or five steps in the history of the world.

So Sam and I went shopping.  Stopping at all of our favorite, discount stores, we ended up with a lovely wrought-iron-looking tall, skinny table, most likely meant to hold a plant or some other decoration (about which I know next to nothing).  This little table fit perfectly right next to the shower door, and became the official towel holder - if there is such a title.

Over the years it has held countless towels.  We went through a phase where we stacked up a bunch of them - bath towel, wash cloth, bath towel, wash cloth, and so on.  It felt like a time-saver for those harried mornings.  Most days, though, whoever gets a shower first gets out two sets of towels and lays them there.  It used to be me.  I guess you could say I started the trend.  Now, Sam is the early riser.  And I can always count on waking up in the morning and finding a bath towel and wash cloth waiting on that little table.

No matter what.

Even if I had one of my typical hormone-related meltdowns, or fought dirty, or threw something away that I shouldn't have, or said something hurtful the night before.

The towels are still waiting for me on the table.

And it just makes me smile.

And reminds me that I am loved.

This week, after a way-too-long hiatus from the Simple Pleasures Party, the unfailing promise of the sight of this

is my simple pleasure.

For many, many more simple pleasures, please join Dayle at the Simple Pleasures Party.