About a month ago my lovely wife went out on a date with me.  We ate at a lovely--not fancy but lovely--restaurant in our area.  It is a place where mainly vacationers or daters, like us, eat.  It's kind of out of the way for the business crowd.  

The hostess escorted to our table.  As I generally do, at least on date-nights, I pulled out Kathy's chair for her.

 

"Aww, I almost never see that anymore."   said the college-aged Hostess.

"How often would you say you do see that?"  I asked.

"I'd say about once a month."

 

OK, I know you ladies are all independent, and all, and that you don't need a guy to help you sit down.  Kathy works out several days a week and moving a chair and graciously sitting in it present not the least of a problem for her.  I don't help her with her chair, or open the car door for her, or hold the door to a room for her, because she needs me to.  I do it because I want to.  I do it because she is God's special blessing to me.  I do it to honor her.

Once a month!

Come on, guys!

 

 

It's STTA.