By all accounts, today was a perfect day:
Unseasonably warm weather, a family outing, good naps, and lots of laughter.
As the day came to a close, my husband did what most husbands rush to do at the first taste of warmer weather: he broke out the grill. It is one of his many dad jobs (along with tubby time and weekend morning breakfasts) that he really enjoys doing and I really enjoy watching. Dinner was great, almost no clean-up was greater, and the kids went to bed with full tummies and pleasant memories.
And then I read my sister-in-law's blog about her near perfect day and I remembered what I'd almost forgot.
At 53 days in, truly perfect days will be hard to come by until he's safe at home.
This is Day 53.
I'm 32, a dad, and I am not a douchebag...
6 years ago