I should take a second to praise my amazing husband for stepping up (even more than usual) as a great husband and a real gentleman this weekend.
We just got back from a wonderful weekend “staycation” in New Orleans with Michael’s parents for my mother-in-law’s birthday. We stayed in a hotel downtown and played all day (and part of the night) in the French Quarter. Cafe du Monde, Johnny’s Poboys, Masperos, the French Market, Margaritaville, mass at St. Louis Cathedral… New Orleans really is a lot of fun to visit, even if you’ve grown up there! Feel free to notice that Bourbon Street did not make it on my list of happy memories from this trip. It’s not that I feel uncomfortable walking down that street; it’s that I feel so desperately sorry for so many “lost souls,” figuratively (and sometimes technically) speaking.
So my praise begins. Michael absolutely blew me away with his thoughtfulness, attentiveness and protectiveness (if that’s a word) all weekend. He constantly held my hand, steered me through crowds, and made sure I had a place to sit, something to drink, and as-often-as-needed bathroom stops. He even commented that I looked nice in a couple of my new maternity outfits. In short, he made me feel as comfortable, beloved and taken care of as I could possibly want. I never had to open a door or lift anything for myself. (He didn’t even ask me to carry all kinds of things for him in my purse all day!)
Don’t get me wrong, Michael is a rare gentleman and an attentive husband in general. However, something made him really step up his game this weekend in the chivalry department, and I loved it. I am guessing that my increasingly large and obviously pregnant body might have something to do with all of this…
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