On Sunday morning, Jeffrey and I headed to The Flying Biscuit Cafe (which my mom and sister had recommended). At this point, I was already feeling a bit sappy and a delicious breakfast at a charming cafe was just what I needed. Jeffrey and I sat and talked about the fun we had at the concert, admired the sweetest little toddler who had already mastered the act of dipping her biscuit into gravy, and split a Southern scramble and French toast with raspberry sauce and creme anglaise.
It was the kind of morning I wanted to grab and put in my pocket so that I could take it out later and remember its sweetness. Then, we went to Starbucks, ordered a Chai to split, and hopped onto the road. When we got home, we danced to Andrew Bird's new CD and did a bit of house cleaning. Although it was just an ordinary evening, it all felt pretty special to share it with the guy I love. I tell you what, I got really lucky when Jeffrey asked me to hitch my wagon to his.