For Christmas this year, I gave Dave the gift of a one hour back massage every Sunday night for the rest of the year. It could have gone horribly wrong, of course. I could have forgotten to do it. I could have started the year off right and then just let busyness get in the way. But instead, we've protected this time and every Sunday night at 9:30 pm we close up the house, hop on the bed, turn the tv on, and I start the back massage.
I'm pretty proud of this gift for a few reasons: Dave carries almost all of his stress in his back and this is a good way for him to start the week a little better than he left it; like most men his love language is physical touch and all the massaging helps show him I like him, and the last reason - well, the last reason is completely, totally selfish and possibly the working of a criminal master mind.
(For the rest of the story, you know you want to know what my reason is, go to The 728b Foundation Blog)