Ode to Clint

It's dawned on me lately of the two of us, Clint is the Romantic. Don't ask me why it's taken nearly 14 years for this to occur to me. But it is kind of surprising considering he's the studly Naval Aviator and I'm the chick, with a drama family and a humanities degree. But he's definitely more romantic and I'm more pragmatic. Take our engagement. He took me to Ft. Picken's beach in Pensacola at sunset. Me: you, me, beach---cool!--let's go for a run! Clint: uh...o.k. So we ran for about a mile before Clint called a break and tried to recreate the romantic scene he'd envisioned (and he was getting a bit worried about dropping the ring in the surf).
Months before every birthday and Christmas, Clint begins saying, "I know what you're getting for Christmas/your birthday! You'll never guess." I do never guess. He's great at surprises.
But the best way that Clint is romantic is that he always wants to be with me. That's what always has meant the most to me. Even though we've spent literally years apart in our marriage, he always makes it clear that he'd rather be home with me (o.k. I know some parts of Iraq were fun, but he was smart/kind enough not to let on to me).
I guess once you really get to know a soldier at heart, they're all romantics--they are willing to show their ideals in the most literal way possible--by putting their lives on the line to make the world a better place. He's a knight in shining helicopter, for sure. And I'm glad he's mine!
Here's him wrestling with the boys. I'm glad he's around to do this because they love it and I'm usually not up for it (especially in my current, round, shape).