The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

My weekend went something like this:

A Saturday of goal-setting and dreaming with my husband, and generally being all couply.

‘Cause sometimes we are absolutely in tune and it’s lovely to be a couple.

On the other hand, sometimes we try to show each other up in fights. Simon will probably read that and go, ‘What? No I don’t. Then I will go, ‘Okay fine, it’s usually me trying to show you up and point out how you’re wrong in my adept argumentative style. It pays to be trained in theatre. Then he will go, ‘My poor fragile scientist heart.’

Next we buzzed ourselves out on coffee. The routine is simple. Simon asks: ‘How’s the espresso pulling today?’ at which point he gets a free shot…just in case. I point out that if he could sell stuff with the same authority he displays while talking about espresso, we would be millionaires.

And because we’re being so couply and all, after the espressos I earn the name ‘Beauty.’ The baby is Little Beauty. ‘Beauty begets Beauty,’ says Simon. Now isn’t that a couply thing to say?

But what about the dreaming? Right. Post espressos. Post nicknaming. We walked and we dreamed. About owning a house with a wrap-around porch (I might be obsessed with porches). About living a debt-free existence and going on shopping sprees where Simon yells out in a rich man’s bravado: ‘I’m taking you to dinner. You need an outfit. From a boutique.’ (In our dreams, Simon knows about boutique shopping.)

Reveling in our moments of dreaming…and our couple-ness.

Will this be the best time of our lives? ‘Cause sometimes the poor times are the best times. So say hindsight and literature. And if we could know when would be the best time, we would surely revel better in each moment. Not a debaucherous revelry. A simple one. A simple coffee-drinking-baby-laughing-not-too-hot-sun-shining-wind-blowing-short-sleeves-post-yoga-feeling-good-and-healthy revelry. That kind.

Then Saturday was over and it was night. At which point Little Beauty turned into Little Beauty Monster Baby and the warm puddly couple hearts turned to ice just in time for church.