The man who loves me.

He’s currently in line at a Jewish deli waiting on Kosher horseradish after spending an hour at our local supermarket looking for something to satisfy my requirements.

My guidelines at one p.m.

1. One jar of horseradish
2. One lemon

When he called me back to clarify the first time, he was in the condiment aisle at King Soopers.  The horseradish I want is refrigerated (I think).  So he went to the deli.

“All I see is creamed or hot,” he said when he called me the second time from the cold shelves. “Is it white or red?”

“Can you ask someone?” I said.  ”The kind my dad uses is Kosher and part of the name is written in Hebrew.”  (Um, I’m pretty sure).

“Okay, honey.”

And now he stands at Bagel Deli.

If this isn’t love, I’m not sure what love is.

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