Peeking Eggs

So just now, I went to the fridge to get a glass of milk. (We Sheas are inveterate milk drinkers.  Milk!  Fruit of the Bovine!  Work of Bossy’s glands.  It shall become for us our corporeal drink!  But I digress.)

Anyway, as I opened the fridge door, there were a dozen smiling cheery eggs peeking out at me from their cardboard container. My sweet and funny Jan has, as long as we have been married, always drawn little smiley faces on hard-boiled eggs to distinguish them from the raw ones.  I’ve seen it a thousand times, but for some reason I was struck by the sheer charm of the thing this evening.  It could be an X or a check mark.  But with my sweetie, it’s always been a smiley face.

I marched right into the bedroom and kissed her for it.  Just because.

Of such tiny moments is a lifetime of joy made up.  Love her.  With my heart I love her.

 

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