Twenty-One to Thirty.

Twenty-One. The way he calls me "babe" when he thinks I'm not listening.  (Oh, and the way he calls me "Rach".)

Twenty-Two. When he speaks to me in French.

Twenty-Three. Actually, when he calls me beautiful in French.

Twenty-Four. The way that even when I'm mad at him and don't want to talk to him, he always says that perfect thing to make me laugh.

Twenty-Five. The way his voice changes when he's talking to me sometimes. (He becomes more patient and caring, especially when we're talking about more "sensitive" subjects.)

Twenty-Six. The fact that he is always honest with me and never tries to hide anything.

Twenty-Seven. His sense of humor.

Twenty-Eight. The way he makes me laugh constantly and the way he loves to make me laugh.

Twenty-Nine. His love for children.

Thirty. The fact that he started to keep a count of how many times he makes me laugh. (This came about one night when we were discussing out future spouses.  I mentioned to him that I headed to have someone who can make me laugh no matter what.  I think he started the count as a way to "prove" himself.)