On the other hand, His hands seem abnormally hot to me. Hot, not warm. He has hot feet too. His body temperature always feels degrees hotter than mine (although in reality our internal temperatures remain similar). This seems so unfair to me. To His credit, despite being perplexed by our thermal differences, He has always been an accommodating hand and foot warmer. His hands are much bigger than mine, and as long as He holds my hand in His it stays toasty. He really is my hero when He offers Himself up as my personal heating pad. He braces when I greet Him with a hug, and He knows, as I inch his shirt out of His belt, that two icebergs are about to simultaneously embrace his flanks (apparently very sensitive anatomy). However, He never recoils. In bed He will sometimes unconsciously flinch when His feet come into contact with mine. But just when I think my feet are destined to be exiled for the night in Siberia, He will turn over, expecting my poor frozen toes to inch their way up His back and take refuge on His Saharan heaven.
He takes it like a man...
...one more reason I love Him
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