dancing in the deepest oceans

Anne walked into my office, and proudly pointed to the T-shirt she was wearing. It said “I [heart] my geek.”
“Is that true?” I said, “Do you really love your geek?”
“I do when he gets off the computer so we can go take care of our errands.” She said.
I stood up, and kissed her nose. “Okay,” I said, “I just have to change my shirt and we can go.”

“What’s wrong with the shirt you have on right now?” She said.
“Look at it,” I said.
“There are only ten types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don’t.”
“Right.” I said, “I need to change this.”
“Why?” She said.
“Because it’s like you’re wearing a shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid,’ and if I wear this shirt . . .”
“Oh. You’re him.” she said.
I laughed, and walked into our bedroom. I returned wearing my Vandals T-shirt.
“Now everyone will wonder who your geek is!” I said.
She looked at me for a moment and replied, “Uhm. Probably not. But I still love you.”
I held her hand the entire time we were out.
After we got home, I went for a run through my neighborhood. The sun was beginning to set, and a light breeze shook a few leaves from the trees over my head.
“Mother Nature thinks it’s October,” I thought, “I like that.”
I reached the corner, and turned down a new street. A car pulled up next to me and honked.
“Well, hello there, Mister Wheaton,” said the driver, one of my very friendly neighbors, “How are you?”
“I’m well,” I said.
“And how is your beautiful wife?”
I smiled and said, “She’s beautiful!”
Because she is.
When I got home, I walked into the dining room. Anne sat at the table, and giggled as she read The Onion.
“Do you know how much I love you?” I said.
She looked up at me, smiled, and held up two fingers.
I shook my head.
She held up four fingers.
I shook my head.
She held up ten fingers.
I shook my head, and held my arms out at my sides, palms open. “This much,” I said.
“That’s an awful lot,” she said.
“Yeah, it sure is.”