Perfect Days

December 5, 2013

The thing I have realized about perfect days is that nothing particularly extraordinary has to happen to make them seem so perfect.  Our perfect day started when I woke up super early.  I left my husband to sleep in while I went out into the living room to watch some early morning news.  By the time I switched to Jurassic Park (to watch it for like the 1000th time), my husband was waking up.  Hearing him wake from his sleep, I decided to go say good-morning.  I rarely get to have morning talks with my husband. During the work week, he’s up long enough to eat breakfast, get dressed, kiss me good-bye and head out the door.  He works overtime on Saturday mornings so the same routine stands.  Sundays are usually left for sleeping in or waking up to make a big breakfast.  It was nice to have a little time just to talk and hang out among our pillows and blankets.
Our AM conversation turned into a request for french toast.  I left my husband to enjoy our empty bed a little while longer and went into the kitchen to start breakfast.  After breakfast, my husband ran some errands and worked in the garage while I did a few things around the house including putting together a lasagna for dinner and starting to bake Christmas cookies.  Sundays always seem to be designated for cooking and/or baking.  The weather was good so we went for a walk to the store later that afternoon.  That turned into a longer walk to my in-laws’ house to help set up their new TV and bring them some of the cookies I had made. While my husband helped with the new TV, I played with my in-laws’ cat (who seemed oddly affectionate!).
We got home in time to warm up dinner.  There’s something so comforting about a hearty pasta dish and a nice glass of wine on a cold evening.  There’s something even more comforting about hallway hugs, kisses and giggles that still make your heart pulse like those first months of dating.  Our perfect day was rounded off by sitting by the Christmas tree all lit up while watching TV and reading.  My husband said good-night and I tried to stay awake through Witches of East End, but felt my eyelids getting heavy.  I dragged myself to bed to that undefined middle portion of the pillows where we drift to sleep each night, where thoughts of our simply perfect day sent me off to sleep.


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