Today we're going to the circus

Boyfriend does this thing. He makes funny noises that correspond with something I'm doing. Something I'm doing to him. Not that kind of something. Get your mind out of the gutter!

It started when I was in the habit of putting my nose right up against the center of his rib cage and rubbing it back and forth. Not as in, like a tissue. More like a nuzzle. And he'd make a noise every time I'd do it. The noise would change based on how hard I had my nose pressed up against him, or how fast, slow, long, or short I'd rub it back and forth. The first time he did it he was probably just kidding around. But I'm sure my whole face lit up, and the 1000-watt smile was probably incentive to keep coming up with new noises for other touches.

The thing about me? My mom has always pointed out that I'm simultaneously the most mature and the most immature person she knows. When I was young she told me I should marry someone older than me, to match my maturity level. She thought I'd outgrow my other-end-of-the-spectrum childishness. But that never happened.

My insistence that BF act as Noisemaker is relentless. If I nuzzle, poke, or tickle him and don't get a noise response, I simply continue until I do. With pout in place.

I imagine I'll stop when we have kids because then it'll be their turn. And they'll grow up with priceless memories of their dad. Memories of the silly things he'd do to make them smile. Simple memories to recall when they need that heart-warming feeling. The feeling you get when you know that someone in the world loves you enough to be your Noisemaker. Someone in the world loves you enough to break down every barrier and submit to being your personal clown.

Maybe wanting a Noisemaker for your nuzzle isn't so childish after all.

And we are going to the circus. That wasn't a metaphor.