Dear JD...it's not like anything special happened today. In fact, it was quite the opposite. We did a whole lotta nothing, but enjoyed every minute of it. It felt like we waited all year for a Sunday like today, a Sunday complete with really long minutes. I'm writing this post because after you made dinner, I said I wanted to remember today, but feared I wouldn't because nothing happened. You didn't chip a tooth, I didn't sign a record deal, and we didn't scratch a winning Lotto ticket. Even though you spent a dollar and tried your luck.
It was a slow morning. When you woke up and I asked what we were doing today, you responded with your eyes closed. Like you were sleep talking. Whatever you want... We walked Polo and kept close to each other because the morning fog surrounded us like a wet blanket. We jumped in the car and brunched at Nick's, then spent the morning laying on Laguna Beach. I showed you my fancy yoga moves. You feigned interest. This is Warrior Two, I said and then laughed when you told me you made your cousin pee his pants when you were kids. On our drive home, we point out our favorite coastal homes and think of how different our lives would be if we entered that driveway. No, that driveway!
We came home and watched church online because we knew we couldn't make it on time. And, really, all I wanted to do was remain tucked indoors. We studied 2 Peter and I loved it. I napped, watched a rerun of Real Housewives of Orange County, and you made dinner. Squash soup, followed up with pasta and your homemade cream sauce. I tell you you're better than any chef I know. This makes you smile. I ask if you think I'm funny and your answer is the same as it's been a million times before: NO.
We take Polo to the dog park and I read, droning out the sounds of barking and canine communication. I'm wearing your jacket and it smells like you. The sun sets and we head home.
It's not like anything special happened today. In fact, it was quite the opposite. JD, I'm writing this letter to help us remember...no, no...to help us not forget. Today was a Sunday filled with really long minutes and laughter. And we're happy.