My Love For You Is Borderline Pathological...

Poor Scott. He had a rough week. On Tuesday, his day off, the Ducati blew up. There was blue smoke, oil, and frustration. He looked like this:

Many beers were had by Scott and friends, as is evidenced by our unusually full recycling bin:

There are Ducati fairings in the spare room:

Scott can only wait for the prognosis. By Friday, the technicians still aren't sure what happened. They need more time, more tests. I start thinking...

Scott lost his wedding ring a couple weeks ago. He was pretty bummed about it. Maybe a new ring would cheer him up? I looked online, and found something perfect. I went to the store near our house, and asked if they had one in stock. They did! They put the new ring in a handsome box. It might not fit (I don't know his ring size) but he could exchange it for the right size later. When should I give it to him? After work, we ate pizza, and watched an old movie. We were about to go to bed, but I didn't want to wait until tomorrow, so I pulled it out from behind a pillow on the couch. "Will you marry me? Again?"

He was surprised, and he says he loves it. The ring is black titanium, and will last forever. He is happy, and I am happy. We agree that we would marry each other a million billion times over again.