Love is boring.

I’ve been married for a while now. The thing about love is that it starts out pretty flashy and dramatic. That’s great because maybe people wouldn’t get together without these “fireworks.” We’ve seen an entire movie genre spring out of the hormonal secretions of those newly in love. Of course, only rarely do movies show the rest of the story.

What happens in the castle after Cinderella marries the Dashing prince?

Because after the honeymoon phase, people settle in to living an actual life. Which just entails…stuff. Not bad stuff, just stuff. The little daily minutiae that all added together equal a life. Even if you lead a very exciting life, there is still cooking, cleaning, working, bill paying, child raising.

You know at the beginning of the fairy tale if the hero is willing to die to save the heroine.  And that’s great.

But it doesn’t really help when you are waiting in line for 3 hours at the DMV. Because I think that’s where love is.

Real, lasting love is sitting on those stupid, uncomfortable seats with you. It’s helping you dot your i’s and cross your t’s in triplicate in order to stave off another 3 hours. It’s taking turns herding the kids outside to get the wiggles out. Often, love is boring. Because life can be boring and you’ve got to love through that.

Love knows what it’s like to pace.

It will spend the wee hours of the morning walking the length of the house soothing a colicky baby. It’s in waiting rooms in hospitals everywhere.

When everything is going well and there are no hospital waiting rooms or colicky babies? Love holds your hand on the way into the grocery store. Or takes the trash out. Or makes your coffee for you.

Or sits through your favorite Dancing Show on a Monday night.