And 20 feet down into the sea.
He makes me laugh with his inventive ideas for products that only a cyclist enthusiast could love. And that may be stretching it.
He sits across me about twice a month as we attempt to beat our friends in 500. He's okay with me not being so patient with him as he learns the game. He's patient with my impatience.
He chases the garbage man down the street to personally hand him a tip for Christmas. In shorts and bare feet. Air temperature: 25 degrees.
He buys me the one and only real item on my Christmas wish list - a Tramontina 6.5-Quart Cast-Iron Dutch Oven.
Then surprises me - my beloved kite is inside. A bit frayed from its trauma last Fall, but still fly-able. He retrieved it secretly and kept it hidden until last week.
He buys me good wine and truffles - just because.
He surprises me again at our annual anniversary breakfast with this - just because. He swears the research shows it will serve me better than an iPad. And I trust him.
He attempts to solve Math problems and involves the kids when estimating how much concrete powder to purchase for above basement project. This is really something because he will tell you he married me for my Math genes. He has gifts in other areas, he says.
He gave me these three nuts to love for the rest of my life.
He chases down the peleton at least once, sometimes twice a day on his rollers, causing a pool of sweat to collect on the mat on the floor. He doesn't mind all the crap on the back porch that surrounds him. He knows how to focus on what's important.
He blogs, he texts, he tweets, but he still knows how to hand write a heartfelt card when it matters.
He's willing to work daily to pray together and talk about us. Not the kids, not the house, not the other stuff of life. Just us.
And 13 years ago today, he became mine.
A deal's a deal, baby. I'm in this for life.