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Isn’t He Romantic

Yes, He Remembers

Popeye and Olive Oyl in the Fleischer Studios ...

Image via Wikipedia

Husband: I can remember the day I met you. It was in April, thirty years ago.

Wife: The month was October, 45 years ago.

Husband: Your light gray eyes flashed bolts of summer lightning.

Wife: My eyes are brown.

Husband: Your curls were golden rays of sunshine.

Wife: I was a brunette at the time.

Husband: Your shapely body put an hourglass to shame.

Wife: I was so thin people would whistle the Popeye theme as I walked by.

Husband: Your voice was that of an angel’s.

Wife: I had laryngitis.

Husband: Your dress was silver to match your eyes.

Wife: My dress was green to match my shoes.

Husband: Your feet were so small and dainty.

Wife: I wear size twelve shoes.

Husband: You smelled like a lily field.

Wife: I put Joy dish soap in my bath water.

Husband: You sashayed into my world, my lovely queen and I crowned you with my heart.

Wife: I was hobbling. Someone had hit me in the leg with a broom and I tripped into you.

Husband: And so decisive! You told me how it was going to be between us from the very start.

Wife: I said, “Get off my foot buster. And stop staring at me like you’ve lost your marbles.”

Husband: We gazed at one another and you surprised me by whispering my name, “Lorenzo!”

Wife: I yelled, “Loser!”

Husband: The band was playing a romantic song.

Wife: The band was on a break. A baby was wailing his head off.

Wife: Dear?

Husband: Yes, Sweetheart?

Wife: Are you sure, you married the right woman?

Husband: I’m as sure as your name is Olivia.

Wife: My name is Janice.

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