I know, I know. From bath time, to our main meal, to second breakfast, or the few minutes we find to putter in the garden each day, it seems like every part of the day is my favorite. I understand that that’s logically not possible, but when life is full and spent with two of the handsomest guys around, what’s not to like?
And now, I have a new one. And oh is it a good one.
I finish teaching English at 8 p.m. I quickly straighten up the classroom, grab my bag, sign out, and hurry down the stairs. Once outside I scan the far side of the street. Without fail, he’s there. Orange work coveralls and all. He pushes his bike across the street and smiles. We steal a short kiss and we both smile again. He’s only gotten off work a few minutes earlier and has been waiting for me.
He continues to push his bike, and takes one of my hands in his free hand. We talk about our afternoons, or our son, or the little girl on the way. Sometimes we don’t say very much at all. He passes over the many puddles and reaches back to help me hop across. Sometimes we stop at a tendita to pick up a few breakfast items for him to take to work the next morning. Most evenings, however, we walk the seven or so blocks straight home.
The whole time maybe lasts fifteen minutes. But its our time. Just us. And its good.
So yes, its a favorite.