Sometimes You Just Can't Help Falling in Love All Over Again....

...when your husband, navigating the treacherous Seoul highway system, drives with such assurance and nerves of steel that you think to yourself - despite twenty years of marriage, two children, and far more knowledge of each other's personal habits than is normally considered conducive to romance - "This man is incredible!"  Forgotten are the dirty socks strewn hither and yon, the expensive sporting gear purchases, the snoring, and the Blackberry habit that has driven you to want to snatch it from his hand and fling it off the nearest bridge.  No, those thoughts are banished immediately when the two of you, driving in Seoul, following the smoothly reassuring - yet, treacherously misleading - voice of the GPS, find yourselves at the bottom of an on-ramp which feeds into a road blocked with mud, rocks, sand, and other debris from the recent flooding which is clearly impassable.  You are filled with despair, imagining abandoning your car, hiking back up to the top of the hill in the rain, the impossibility of organizing a rescue party due to the language barrier, and, finally, bleakly accepting the strong likelihood of settling down and beginning life anew at the bottom of that on-ramp, so grim does the outlook seem, and so scarce are your viable options for escape.   It is at this moment, when your spirits are at their lowest possible ebb, that you are reminded just why you married this man.

Your admiration for his gritty determination, his quick reflexes, and his clear thinking in the midst of chaos cannot possibly climb any higher when he coolly puts the car into reverse, and proceeds to drive - backwards, uphill, on a one-way on-ramp, at high speed - for approximately 1/4 mile until you get to the point where he can calmly put the car back into drive, get back onto the highway, and take the next exit.  (Now, granted, I probably wouldn't be feeling this way if we'd run into any other cars while we were taking that exciting little drive, but apparently everyone else in Seoul (except our GPS) had gotten the memo, so the way was clear.  And I can assure you, once I resumed heartbeat and respiration, I was loud in my praises.)

Forty-something project manager driving a Mazda, or knight on a white charger? No question in my mind.

Clearly, he was born to drive here.

Swoon.