It is a given that I have a thing for antiques, the brocante, the marche aux puces (flea market), the peeling, scratched, tarnish left over from another time. It is a fact I cannot deny. I asked French Husband, "Do you feel a rush of excitement when you buy a building, do you feel a surge of happiness when you land a good deal, do you get a high after a deal is done? Does it make you want to burst?"
He said, "Yes," in a matter of fact sort of way.
I said, "Yes? Just yes?" in a kinda snotty tone.
He said, "Yes, I do," then flashed me an American smile.
I smiled back and thought to myself, he is a man of little words, I am a woman of too many words.
Then I gushed on and on how happy I was at my latest finds at the brocante market. I showed him every little thing. I told him how I was doing on my brocante online shop. I told him how I felt like bursting because I was so happy to be doing something I love.
It is a good thing one of us listens.
Guys speak a different language then women. I am not saying this because my French Husband's first language is French and we speak English together… though I can see how that adds chunk's of confusion to communicating. But beside that do they speak a different language. I know they do. I had four brothers…
Then French Husband grabbed me, literally lifted me off my feet and said, "I am HAPPIEST when you are happy. When you are living what you love!"
And he then he smiled that smile that makes me care less about anything else.
(photo source: Ladelle)
Yeah guys speak a different language, but when my guy speaks it really is music to my ears.
I think talking is as good as kissing. Well a close second or third at least. Brocanting is first right?
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