Remember a few nights ago when I woke both of us up at 3am, shouting, “I’m so thirsty I’m going to die!!”?
Hard to forget.
Well, remember how you ran to the kitchen to fetch me a glass of water? How when you brought it to me I spit it back in the cup and said it “tastes like poison!”? And then remember when I asked that you please, PLEASE!, just toss in a splash of pomegranate juice?
I thought you might.
Well, thanks for that. The pom really made the water palatable. Especially because you forgot ice. Listen, no harm done. I don’t blame you. I might have forgotten it too had I been woken from slumber with a threat of my love near death from thirst. But really, ice is important.
No, like, really important.
Where was I? Oh yes, thank you. Thanks for waking in the dead center of a sleep cycle and appeasing me with a drink. A spritzer, no less.
What would I do without you?
(Well, to start, I’d always have ice in my drink, but that’s really beside the point. No, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t harp on the ice any longer. Just know that I missed the ice. Dearly.)
But anywho, you know I’m a giver.
I baked your favorite sweet. A thank you gift, really. The chewiest, gooey-est blondies with melting chunks of dark chocolate, creamy white chocolate, flakes of sweet, sweet coconut, and toasted nuts. I know you already love them. I do too. One bite is a fleeting moment of bliss. A feeling of intensity and pure, pure pleasure.
So please enjoy them.
Thanks for taking sweet care of me.
And loving me even though I like to read grocery sale circulars in bed on Thursday night while making lists. (I can’t be the only 26-year-old doing it.)
And rubbing my shoulders even when your thumbs start to hurt. (I do think you can build strength if you keep at it, though.)
And laying on my side of the bed while I brush my teeth at night, so that when I tuck under the covers, the spot will be warm. (I hate cold sheets.)
And thanks for telling me I’m a dead ringer for Jay Leno when I wear that denim shirt; the resemblance really is uncanny. (I respectfully disagree that Jay wears it better, however.)
Oh! And thanks for emailing me articles about quinoa because you know I’ll find them interesting. (I do.)
Love love love,
P.S. These aren’t all for you.