Love, in stages

Love, the romantic kind, comes in stages. It begins with one curious look . . .

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Initially reciprocated with contempt, disgust, or, worse, indifference . . .

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Until people around them start to notice . . .

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The spontaneous spark that erupts when they are together.

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How can he take his eyes off her when he is too intoxicated with the idea of her?

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And how, after the first stirrings of romantic interest, can she refuse his sweet and grand gestures?

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At first she feigns anger or hatred or disinterest, but he remains unperturbed . . .

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His efforts pay off when she finally says "yes" to him. Who else on earth can be happier?

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But they have some bad days, too. Sometimes attraction often inevitably turns into replusion . . .

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Even to the point of . . . nausea.

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Many thanks to the babies, Isabella and Mark Twelve—yes, that's his name—for being so cooperative during the entire photo shoot. (Kids, if you're now able to read this, I just want to say: this had your parents' blessing.)  I had so much fun writing the captions. Oh, what one can do with pictures!

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