Boring is beautiful. Boring is ordinary. While my husband hasn’t chased me down in an airport to profess his undying love for me or shown up at my door in a limo prepared to fly me away from reality, he has walked with me hand in hand thousands of times around the sun. He’s gone to Wal-Mart at Mid-night for milk. He’s helped clean up puke and put money into savings instead towards his dream boat.