I'm a chanter at my church, and really what I want is for someone to be waiting in the pews for me so we can go down to coffee hour together. We'll both help our kids with homework, but I'll also play with them outdoors and read to them at night. We'll go to whatever silly events the Philoptochos organizes and check coffee shop billboards for free concerts and community ballet performances. You’ll share—or at least tolerate—my interest in metabolic science, and so you’ll support my animal-based diet (and I won’t be getting fat or sick on you). You’ll be my gym buddy! You're not marrying me for my money or my hair. You're impressed I still Greek dance, and my enthusiasm is infectious so now you do, too. It doesn't bother you that I don't speak Greek, and my taste in music reminds you of your dad's. You notice when talking to me that I adopt perspectives not always my own, and it can be frustrating identifying the "real" man, but you've been with jerks before who couldn't see past themselves. Firmly, kindly, you remind me what's important and--importantly--what you want.