You can stand under my umbrella

"I'll have what she's having."
~When Harry Met Sally

Tonight's a late night at the office, and I find myself pretty grateful that I don't have to rush home and cook dinner or do laundry for a husband. I mean yeah, it would be nice for someone to give a crap how my day has been, but generally speaking, I have girlfriends for that (see yesterday's post).

Suffice it to say that it's not often I yearn for coupledom. There are only two certainties in life--death and taxes--and both of those would be easier as a Mrs. The latter for obvious reasons, and the former due to the apprehension I feel about having no one to care for me in my old age and inevitable loony bin intake.

So I'm happily single. Footloose and fancy free to work late and eat a power bar for dinner.

But as I gaze out my office window, I see my coworker Carol's husband, Larry, pulling up in front of the office in the torrential rain. He gets out of the vehicle, pops a golf umbrella emblazoned with the Missouri Tigers logo (her favorite team) and walks to the front door to escort her to the car so she won't get wet.

At that moment I realize that's what love is. It's not about the fancy gifts or tax breaks. It's about anticipating someone else's needs, and taking care of it before they even have to ask. It's about holding an umbrella. Ella, ella, ella.

Guess I'll just be getting wet.