Someone get me a wind machine!

Lately Facebook has been trying to convince me that my marriage is off track. Why do I think that, you ask? Because my news feed has been overrun with ads for romance novels.

Now, do *I* have any complaints about my marriage? Nope. I happen to think The Husband and I are a great match. The Romance Novel Advertisement Industry, however, is determined to convince me otherwise.

I will admit that I don’t have much firsthand experience with romance novel. I tried to read one once many years ago, but I couldn’t really get into it largely because the romantic lead had the same name (first and last) as one of my relatives. But from what I’ve gathered from the ads and what not, here is what romance is supposed to look like:

• Things are supposed to be billowing at all times. Blouses. Skirts. Curtains. Seeing as I typically wear jeans and tee shirts and my windows are covered with blinds, clearly I am doing things wrong. Either I need to change up my wardrobe and home decor, or I need to invest in a portable wind machine.
• What I refer to as my boobs are not boobs. That region is known as my bosom. And it’s supposed to be heaving. Evidently I don’t breathe right, because my boobs — sorry, bosom — tend to stay pretty stationary.
• My husband should show his affection by being angry. Growling. Calling me a hussy. Preferably a wanton and/or brazen hussy.
• Supernatural elements are encouraged within reason.
• Or time travel.
• Or being a pirate.
• So the romantic ideal would be to marry a time traveling pirate warlock from the year 1400 AJD (After Johnny Depp) who growls at women and calls them hussies while admiring their heaving bosoms from the other side of a billowing curtain.

Clearly, according to the romance novel industry, my marriage will never live up to the ideal. Here is an example of a typical exchange in our household:

ME: Hey husband, we need to make a shopping list.

HUSBAND: Okay, what do we want to eat this week?

ME: I feel like we haven’t had lasagna in a while. Do you think you’d have time to make that this weekend? Friday is going to be a rough day at work so it would be nice to have comfort food that night.

HUSBAND: Yeah, I’m getting home early so that should work well. I’m glad to make it for you if that makes you happy.

ME: It does. Thanks husband. I love you.

HUSBAND: I love you too.

Personally, I think that’s plenty romantic right there. I really love the fact that The Husband is the cook of the household. That’s far more exciting to me than dark, brooding scoundrels.

Now here’s what it would look like according to the Romance Novel Industry.

She sauntered into the room seductively, hair blowing in the ever present breeze. “Oh lover! Are you back from your booty hunt, seeing as you are an intergalactic pirate from another century?” she asked with quivering breath.

He appears suddenly, lip curled with disgust. “Aye,” he said, spitting on the floor to further convey his disgust and frustration with everything. “Why do you call me, wench?”

Her bosom heaved repeatedly. “I’m hungry,” she said, undressing him with her eyes.

He growled, “and what are you hungry for, hussy?”

Her bosom heaved some more as her blouse and skirt billowed. “Lasagna,” she moaned.

“Then lasagna you shall have…with a price,” he snarled.

“And what is that?”

“I need some of that booty,” he said, angrily grabbing her butt.

And they swooned for hours under the moonlight (even though it was the middle of the afternoon) because moonlight is required.

What do y’all think? Are you a fan of romance novels? Tell me your thoughts in the comments. I’ll read them after The Husband and I finish making a menu.