If you don't like 'mushy' things, maybe you will hate this. Though it's Disney Channel-friendly.

Some women like flowers, chocolates and love notes. They need to hold hands in the car, sing "our song" and have little mementos lying around their homes of "our first date," "the first time he gave me flowers," and "the first time he met my parents." They need these sort of reassurances to feel loved.

OK. Fine. Those are all nice things.

But the most romantic thing I've ever had anyone say, do or express to me is this (and it's rated G), and it happened this weekend:

I had a cold. It was quite severe: The sore throat, the fever, the headache, the stuffiness, the cough. I'm talking H-O-T. Maybe even H-O-T-T. I mean it was a hard-core cold.

I didn't know if I was supposed to take medicine with this other medicine I was taking, but I felt like I was going to die anyhow, so I thought "If I'm going to go, I'm going to go out breathing through my nose," and I took some children's cough syrup right before bed.

Whoa.

Ten minutes later, I was feeling woozy and I laid down and slept. The next morning over breakfast, Dave said "I was so scared you were going to die that I tried staying up all night to make sure you didn't stop breathing."

That was the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. And the creepiest, all at the same time.