Christian and I stayed up way too late last night just talking. For some reason all of my profound thoughts and questions pop up right as we’re getting into bed (does this happen to anyone else?). Much the dismay of his sleep cycle, each and every time one surfaces we end up huddled under the covers with the puppies debating the intricacies of dating or life or whatever it may be. I do, love those moments.
So, what do I do? I call my mom. I chose my mom because Christian doesn’t need me to plant any further seeds that he married a lunatic. The conversation goes like this:
Remember how Christian and I planted bunches of tulips all around our yard last fall? And, how they were starting to bud meaning that there was hope of spring in the future? Yeah, well they have grown and grown and eventually bloomed this past weekend… and much to my surprise, they weren’t tulips at all. Instead we have hoards of daffodils popping up out front and back. Not that I’m complaining because who can look at a daffodil and just not perk up. They have to be one of the happiest looking flowers that ever lived.