A grateful heart: A marriage full of playfulness and joy

In lieu of a sweater picture.

“Good night, sweater.”


“Good night, sweater?”

I’d said “Good night, sweetheart,” intending to kiss a stubbly cheek before falling straight to sleep. (Yes, I do that… hit the pillow and immediately doze. It’s one of the things T enviously loathes about me.)

Instead, I found myself cracking up and asking “How many do you love me?” Yes, I frequently ask about the precise quantity of love. Because I get answers like this:

“All of them.”

“All of them, what?”

“Sweaters. All the sweaters in the world.”

“Of course.”

A few weeks ago, it was all the boulders in the world. Sometimes it’s rare airplanes. Sometimes particles of mass, or as with sweaters, something we were just talking about. Whatever it is, it usually makes me smile and feel so grateful for an often-times playful and joyful marriage.

Le sigh.


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