It’s a Sunday morning – Late enough to qualify as a “Sunday sleep-in”, but not so late that the rest of the day just seems to zoom by, because there simply was no “morning” portion to it. My bed is empty, apart from me of course, but there is no real surprise there, as I have yet to even have a “nap-over” in my new flat, and I think to myself  ”Hmmmm – wouldn’t it be nice to get a cup of coffee in bed, and have the guy who holds a special spot in my heart, read to me for a while”.

I do, of course, realize just how romantically ludicrous this may sound to some, but something I really want in a guy is for him to want to read to me, and for that same guy to want me to read to him too (although I probably won’t – since I’m prone to laziness!). I know it’s the sort of nonsense that fluffy romance novels are made of, because who really does that sort of thing in this day and age? Surely we all have better things to do with our time, then sit around and read, or be read to? But I don’t think so – I think it is a beautiful gesture of love. It says “I want to share my me time with you”.

I don’t really care what it is that is read to me… Read me Chapter 22 of what ever riveting novel you are currently engrossed in. Read me the obituary section of the Weekend newspaper. Read me the back of the Cinnamon Crunch cereal box… I don’t care what you read, just read to me.

Read to me at the kitchen table, over soft boiled eggs and “soldier” toast (buttered toast cut into little 5 or 6 strips – perfect for dipping into molten, golden-yellow egg yokes). Read to me in the bath, after a long day at the office, while I sip on a glass of tasty red wine. Read to me while we are both lying on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, dreading the coming Monday morning… But my favorite would be if you read to me on a Sunday morning, when we are still in bed together. While I lie with my head resting on you chest, so I can hear your voice rumble in your lungs, even before the words on the page have left your mouth and flutter away like graceful butterflies. Yes, that would be my favorite thing of all – if you read to me on a Sunday morning. So we could cuddle and doze and kiss and I would know, that more then anything in the world, you wanted to stay with me in a world of pages and words.

Siiiigh. How I want a guy who will read to me! Happy Sunday, folks! 🙂