The cold gusts of a Sunday evening give way to the warming thoughts of you. The fire begins to roar fed by your prevailing winds. The sap pops as the thin planked door slams open in the midst of your strongest gust. I smile from under my blanket on the couch and wine “I’m hungry honey”
Your eyes roll as you shoulders shrug off the heavy coat and close the door. I am now behind you sharing my warmth. I surround you with my blanket and walk you to the fire. I build a tent by opening my arms and we relish the moment until once again I tease “I’m hungry honey!” You being used to our routine go to the kitchen and open the fridge to see what you can whip up but this time you open the refrigerator and find only an envelope on the top shelf. It reads Please meet me in the Bedroom, you close the light on the fridge walk past the flickering fire and into the candle light of our room witch I have turned into our dining place for tonight. I pull a seat out for you and reclaim mine. I fill your glass with white and watch your cheeks turn flush. We toast to this Sunday night as our feet reaffirm how we are feeling. Cold…
“So what did I do to deserve this? You seductively ask
“Uh, You don’t remember!?” I retort in a pouting manner.
Your face goes blank as I pull up the black plastic bag from the floor. Your eyes well up as I place the greasy ass bred sticks onto the fine linen napkin held by a basket in the middle of our table.
“It’s only the anniversary of probably our best date ever!’’
I prove to have out done my self by bringing extra bags of plastic-ware and even refills on Diet Coke.
We eat our now cool fast Italian food and poke fun at to who is at fault for this whole having fallen into love thing. What ever it is. mmmmm