I think my goofy husband Mike might fear you all have the wrong impression of him (or that you might have the right impression and he'd like to change it anyway...).  I think he's going for more of a suave Don Juan type now... though you should be the judge of how well he's doing...

The other day I was in the shower when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom with a piece of sliced apple in his hand. He opened the door, fed it to me, and then screamed "Blog that!"

Next, he turned on classical music that was either romantic or the soundtrack of a crazy person about to turn me into a lady suit like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs.

For the rest of my shower, he returned every minute to feed me a different piece of fruit. A grape. A blackberry. A strawberry. Each time screaming "Blog that!" once it was unceremoniously shoved in my mouth (which wasn't easy because I was laughing so hard at that point...).

I mean, what's more suave and romantic than having fruit shoved into your wet face while someone stomps in and out of the room screaming "blog that!"?