Love...true love

At the risk of sounding more self-involved than I actually am (which, let's face it, would be hard to do), I offer this real-life definition of love:

True love is when, after agreeing to clean the kitchen after having cooked so that one's dear husband can go to sleep, and having found (and then lost) a giant evil Japanese cockroach in said kitchen, a wife proceeds to spend an hour scrubbing, scouring, and sweeping that kitchen rather than vacuuming, so the late-night cleaning wouldn't wake her husband up.

No?