Sunday Morning

Josh stood by the refrigerator, content as always just watching me make our breakfast. Was he just curious, hungry, or both? I microwaved a cup yesterday’s coffee, showed him how I stir the eggs and add milk for the scramble, all this as the potatoes browned. A sweet Norah Jones song: Back to Manhattan, started playing on the station streaming jazz. About the same time, the rain started pouring down, tapping on the metal roof, while the bright morning sun continued to shine.

All of these things, the music, the sounds, and smells, while the observant Josh looked on, was so calming. Almost magical. As he finishes the last of the blueberry and buttermilk pancakes, I wonder where the day will take us?