how i know the red panda loves me

Two weeks ago, he brought ribs for me.
We had met on our usual day and were dining at
"his place", which is fairly usual of late.
When I came from the buffet to the table, he was patiently waiting for me before he ate.
Plus, he was waiting for my reaction to the two
pieces of delightful food in a cup -
separate from his plate -
intended especially for me.
Little things mean a lot.

Twice, he has placed this cap upon my head in a darkened cinema.
The first time was when we saw "Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker", in the Big D, "just like I like it!"
He had noticed I seemed a bit down during the ride to the southside, so, trying to liven the mood during the previews, he'd plopped the hat on me, as a shenanigan, no doubt expecting me to do the same to him.
But I had not.
I was in need of "mothering" and the ballcap from AutoZone, a memento of a time when I had rescued him, did the trick.
The second time that he gifted me with the wearing of the cap was about three weeks ago.
That had been the first time he'd gone to a subtitled movie with me.
It was also only a few days after Michael and the girls had left and I was rather blue.
My favorite panda - that would be him - placed the cap on my head as we sat in the cinema.
So, not only had he agreed to my last-minute movie change to "Parasite", but also he'd done the next best thing to holding my hand throughout it.
Little things mean a lot.

Tonight, he again took me to Barrelhouse South for dancing!
Not for him to dance, oh, no.
Just for me to do what I so enjoy,
but on a Tina Tuesday with him.
Emerald Empire, courtesy of Marlow and others, laid down the marvelous music for an hour!
"Tell Me Something Good", "My Girl", "Don't Stop The Music"!
"I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)"! "Kiss"! "Shout"!
Little things mean a lot.


We had even dined at Rancho Alegre, as we had on that December night.
Plus, as he had then, he picked me up at my house, to travel together downtown.
That's a real rarity, making this the third time he's been to my house.
Like, ever.
And the first time he came here was years ago.
Here's the big difference between this time and those others.
This time, as we left the restaurant, he tried to give me the keys to Opal.
He had mentioned that he never gets to be a passenger, as he always drives.
I piped up and said I'd like to drive his little Prius...
and he trusted me to do that.
I already know I am the only one who has ever ridden with him in this car.
He made sure I understood that meant I was special to him.
That's pretty special for me.
Little things mean a lot.

Now, I'm going to listen to my Christmas present from him, "Elvis: The Platinum Collection".
Not only did the import travel across the ocean, like a pilgrim -
his words - but it was also brand-new, in its own packaging.
Those two factors are in direct opposition to his being a self-proclaimed cheapskate extraordinaire.
Yes, he most definitely loves me.
Little things mean a lot.