I was away from home for a week, having a very fine time attending the San Francisco Ring Cycle. On my return, I exited the restricted part of the airport and found my husband holding up a sign as if he was a limo driver seeking a passenger:
For nearly 35 years, I have been married to Mr. Romance, a man willing to drive 15 miles to the nearest store just to buy the board on which to write a romantic message. Lucky me.