Traditions. Do you love me?
Years ago, when I was a kid, my dad started a tradition. He probably didn't know he was starting a tradition, but it has now persisted into a third generation, so it is officially a tradition.
We squeeze hands.
Someone gives you 4 hand squeezes and those 4 squeezies mean "Do you love me?"
Now you have to respond with 3 squeezies back, which mean "Yes, I do."
You get 2 in return, "How much?"
You must now squeeze the person's hand as hard as you can symbolizing your profound love!
If you start the squeezie with Dad, you best not be wearing a wedding ring, because he is going to squeeze your hand until your fingers feel like they might break off and a wedding ring creates a dent you'll have for three days, at least. My dad must love me A LOT, and I've got the finger dents to prove it.
Chad and I have carried this tradition into our marriage.
(We've also added the headlight version, because we always seem to be following one another somewhere in separate cars. So, usually at stoplights, we play the squeezie game by flickering headlights and tapping brakes. If we ever get separated I always know when Chad has caught back up to me because he flashes his headlights four times. )
The girls love the squeezies. Every person plays a little differently. Some of us don't like getting the holy heck squeezed out of our hands, so we play the "be gentle." Brynn gets quite confused because she wants to do both parts, but when she's done she wants you to squeeze the living daylights out of her hand.
We play everywhere. In church. When we're watching movies. When someone looks like they need a lift.
Few things rival the feeling of a tiny hand slipping into yours and giving you four tiny squeezes. "Do you love me?"
We squeeze hands.
Someone gives you 4 hand squeezes and those 4 squeezies mean "Do you love me?"
Now you have to respond with 3 squeezies back, which mean "Yes, I do."
You get 2 in return, "How much?"
You must now squeeze the person's hand as hard as you can symbolizing your profound love!
If you start the squeezie with Dad, you best not be wearing a wedding ring, because he is going to squeeze your hand until your fingers feel like they might break off and a wedding ring creates a dent you'll have for three days, at least. My dad must love me A LOT, and I've got the finger dents to prove it.
Chad and I have carried this tradition into our marriage.
(We've also added the headlight version, because we always seem to be following one another somewhere in separate cars. So, usually at stoplights, we play the squeezie game by flickering headlights and tapping brakes. If we ever get separated I always know when Chad has caught back up to me because he flashes his headlights four times. )
The girls love the squeezies. Every person plays a little differently. Some of us don't like getting the holy heck squeezed out of our hands, so we play the "be gentle." Brynn gets quite confused because she wants to do both parts, but when she's done she wants you to squeeze the living daylights out of her hand.
We play everywhere. In church. When we're watching movies. When someone looks like they need a lift.
Few things rival the feeling of a tiny hand slipping into yours and giving you four tiny squeezes. "Do you love me?"
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