I am completing my normal morning routine, involving getting J's breakfast, making coffee and cleaning last night's wine glasses. J and I are chatting. In my mind I'm trying to minimize the number of trips to the far end of the kitchen where the trash can hides in a corner.
As I pass by for the 5th time on my way to the pantry, J remarks, "You could have gotten your Cheerios out when you got my straw."
My process-oriented heart swells with pride. Now that's just beautiful.
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