He brings music instead of flowers. I make cookies instead of cake. Three more minutes but then we'll have to wait. He can't pout from smiling though it's cute when he tries. It's a gamble of pros and cons and don't go down this road, let it come to you. Then we'll worry about whatever letter you're wanting to write.
Today I am grateful for lawnmowers and trucks and fishing poles and hunts. Shoulders, a cap, that t-shirt, those jeans. The boots he removes at the door. His bare feet. The smile, the laugh, the slow dance.
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