Matt and I don't tend to do much in way of presents for each other, for whatever reason. Birthdays warrant a card and a kiss and maybe dinner out or making someone's favorite, and that's fine. Because while there are moments in marriage that make you want to tear your hair out, there are also moments that feel like a gift wrapped up and topped with a glittery bow.
Last night I fell asleep on the couch after watching fifteen minutes of movie, and I vaguely remember Matt trying to get me to come to bed when he was heading that way.
"I'm fine, I'm good," I said.
"You're going to have to let the dogs out when you wake up, then," he answered.
"Mm-hmm. I'm good. I'll be there. I'm good," I said.
I woke up about 6:00 this morning cram-packed on the loveseat (feels less roomy when your knees have locked) and hobbled to the bedroom, remembering our conversation and thinking Glad I didn't tell him, "No! Stop that!"
like last time when he tried to pull my blanket off to encourage me to get up.
I got into bed and laid on my side, and he scooted up to me in his sleep. Just as I was drifting off again, I heard him say, "Finally."
And that, my friends, is a gift.