No one can get to me like Gene can... and not always in a good way. He can turn me into a pouting lovesick teenager in no time flat. He says I am too sensitive. I say he isn't sensitive enough.
The girls and I went on a mini-vacation. We were gone for TWO whole days. I am not used to being the leaver. That is his job - thanks to the Army and training exercises, deployments, and long work hours.
I probably called Gene four times the first day. The next day I thought I would be tough and wait to see if he called (please refer back to the teenager reference I made earlier). Well he finally did call, in the late afternoon. He stated "I didn't mean to call you. I had my days mixed up and I thought you had forgotten Gigi's softball practice."
Where is the love?!?! Where is the romance?!?! The proclamations that prove his undying love for his beauty queen?!?!?
But, he does love me (us - I know it says Porter girls - which is plural). This is what we found waiting for us on the counter when we got home. I love that guy more that cake.