Shelley: Thanks for helping me make Shenley’s Birthday card. Pretty funny, right?
John: Sure was.
Shelley: Marina’s card was so romantic. Why don’t you give me cards like that?
John: Because you would laugh at me.
Shelley: That’s true. How sad is that? John, I don’t think we’re romantic.
John: Of course we are. I bought you flowers on Andrew’s birthday.
Shelley: You picked wild flowers in Joshua Tree National Park.
John: I could have been arrested by a Ranger.
Shelley: Oh please. I have an idea. Let’s be romantic for the rest of the evening. Starting now. Kiss me… Euhhh! Why’d you lick my neck?
John: I thought it would be romantic to try something new.
Shelley: It’s gross.
John: What if I lightly stroke your arms?
Shelley: No! You’re making my skin itchy.
John: Look deeply into your eyes without blinking?
Shelley: No. That’s creepy. Ahhh…. There’s no hope.
John: There is. Sit down. I’m going to recite a poem I wrote for you, before we were married. Ahem.
My heart cries out with pain
As you get on that big silver bird in the sky…
WTF? Why are you laughing?
Shelley: You already used “big silver bird in the sky” in a poem to an ex girlfriend. It’s hardly romantic to recycle lines.
John: Why don’t you give it a shot, Miss Bronte?
Shelley: Fine. It might not be perfect. But at least it will be original.
You are my heart
My heart. My heart.
You are my soul.
My soul. My soul.
My eyes drip with diamond tears
Diamond tears. Diamond tears.
I will do anything for you.
For you. For you.
John: Heh! Heh! Heh! Come here little lady and prove it.
Shelley: That’s so wrong on so many levels.
John: Give us a hug.
Shelley: Ahhhhh…now that’s romantic… Huh! Did you burp in my ear?
John: No. That’s rude. Go sit on the couch. I’ll get us a drink, set up a movie, and we’ll cuddle.
Shelley: OK………………………………………… That would be my bum.
John: Oh sorry. My hand accidently…
Shelley: Stop groping me.
John: It’s not groping. It’s…
Shelley: Really? Really? Passing gas? Forget it.
John: Why don’t we stop trying to be like Shenley and Marina and be ourselves?
Shelley: You’re right. We’ll be romantic, Smith style.