So, you all read yesterday’s post, and the general consensus is that Mate is a hero.
I’m down with that shit.
And here’s the thing.
I’m a feminist. I’m all about division of labor. I’m totally against me doing most of the housework–and I don’t.
But when my husband comes home for ten minutes between work and a soccer meeting, I have dinner waiting if I can. When I make dinner on other nights, I call the kids in to come get theirs–but I walk out his dinner, just for him. And if it’s something really tasty, he gets dibs on leftovers.
Because he’s my hero. And a hero should get certain concessions.
And the really cool thing? The kids get it.
So, when McDonalds had no hot chocolate and I told them that I would make hot chocolate when dad got home?
Well, Dad’s a hero.
So it’s no problem.
Mate may never think he’s EVERYBODY’S hero (although he totally is). But I don’t want him to ever have any doubts that he’s mine.
I hope that comes out in my books. To me, that’s sort of what romance is about–even after twenty-eight years.
The VERY BEST THING about our heroes is that we don't have to share them with anyone but our families….and maybe their workplaces (but those people usually don't have a clue as to the Clark Kent in their midst!)
That is nice, good, sweet to hear.