Whenever I drop V off at the train or at work or one of us leaves the house for some reason, I always think of the xkcd cartoon about considering your last words to everyone. I think the punch line was something like a couple saying something to each other like, "pick up some fucking milk on your way home, would you?" and what if that was the last thing you ever heard from them?  So I always worry too much about making sure I say, "I love you" to him and giving him a hug or a smooch or whatever. 
Usually when I drop him off at the train, as he crosses the street to the steps, I'll roll down the window and shout, "I love you!" and he'll get the slightly embarrassed face you'd expect on a kid whose mom is dropping him off at school and yelling it in front of all the other kids. he'll say, "I love you too," but it's with an air of "jeez, lady, do you have to shout?"

Considering that our neighborhood has a near-constant mantra of shouted cursing rolling from end to end of the district like an ocean wave, passed from junkie to alcoholic to nut to junkie to alcoholic to nut and so on, the result is that people who have their brains in order just stay as quiet as possible. My response to this is that maybe there should be more positive shouting. 

For example, when I call the dogs to come inside, I yell, "Hey ladiiiiieeeees!" or "What is up, my bitcheeeees?" 

if they refuse to come inside, they get, "Madam? Your Majesty?" until they give up.  All of this is always followed by enough "Good girl! Good Girl!" to make it sound like I'm advertising a dog food by that name. 

After two years of having lived next to Ant'ny and The Octomom's constant fighting, shouting, beating their dogs and calling their kids "motherfucker," I feel like I have to make a joyful noise to counteract their audiblebile (like that? see what I did there? "Audibile" would have been even better but autocorrect wouldn't let me do it without capitalization and quotation marks).

This morning, I rolled down the window to shout, "I love you," to the hastily departing Vincenzo, and I could already see his shoulders rising against the oncoming tide of embarrassment. I knew the rail trestle over my head would echo madly and make the whole thing worse, so instead, this is what came out of my mouth:

"What do we want? PEACE!
When do we want it? NOW!" 

He looked at me like I was insane, but he was laughing, so it was a good thing.