Lying in bed, sleeping late this morning, I was awakened by a tongue on my face. No, it was not Mr. Sweetie. At least, not this time.
I open my eyes to find an excited little dog dancing alongside the bed, Mr. Sweetie curled up behind me, and the Bunny curled up behind him. (The Pony, for those of you keeping score, was already downstairs surfin' the web.)
As the puppy curled up, warm and fuzzy next to me, and Mr. Sweetie curled up, warm and shirtless beside me, and the Bunny lay there chatting happily, I realized with a shock--I love my life!
This has not been the usual state of affairs for the last 10 years, necessarily. So, this is a good thing.
"Gosh," I said (I say things like that now, especially around the kidlets). "I love my life. I love my dog, I love my husband, I love my little girl here in bed, I love my other little girl downstairs."
The Bunny: Is Daddy a knucklehead sometimes, like the puppy?
Me: No. He is a knight in shining armor, riding a white charger.
The Bunny: No. Just wearing his pants.
Mr. Sweetie wisely did not comment.
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