My day is winding down; I have just enough wine in me that I’m not sleepy. Contentedness folds over me like a warm blanket.
The sound is down on Mickey Mouse, because my son is Deaf–gone are the days of having to listen to a certain purple dinosaur, for whom I feel absolutely no love, and who I suspect doesn’t love me either. There are walls and windows between myself and my family, and the frigid winter air. My tummy is full of a simple dinner of pasta and canned tomatoes, with mozzerella cheese melted on top… What more could I ask for?
I love nights like this. It’s like comfort food for an exhausted soul.
Tell me, what is your perfect evening with family?