She's a character, she has opinions.

Sometimes all it takes is toast.

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Sometimes I bring breakfast to The Husband in bed. It’s never a big breakfast–though I do sometimes feel like getting up and cooking before he leaves for work–but it’s something he otherwise wouldn’t have. I don’t do it often, and I do it because, for whatever reason, on that particular day, I enjoy it. If it ever stops becoming enjoyable I’ll stop doing it.

Today he’s sick. Just a nasty cold with lots of congestion and coughing. So I made him some peanut butter toast at 4:45 a.m. so he could have that with his morning cold medicine. A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down and all that. The dog could smell peanut butter from a mile away and that woke her out of a sleep that my patting her on the head and stomach couldn’t. So there he sat, peanut butter toast in one hand, petting a dog with the other. Oh, he gave her some toast. Of course he did. And she gave him even more love.

Since I’ve been sick I’ve been trying to appreciate the little things. There are moments when I look up and say “my life is actually pretty good.” I had Nutella on my toast this morning; my life was excellent.) I’m trying to get The Husband to come over to this way of thinking, mostly for my own peace of mind, but also for his, too. This morning was one of those moments. I hope he was able to appreciate it before leaving the house, in yet more rain, for yet another day at work. Because, really, our lives aren’t so bad.


Written by tldegray

October 31, 2012 at 6:05 am

Posted in Essay

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