"It's such a gorgeous sight to see you eat in the middle of the night"
Alright look, I'll admit it. I am not a good cook. I blame the circumstances of my upbringing (that's all imma say 'bout that). I've learned to make a few things here and there. Greg has told me he thinks I'm part Italian since for a while there, everything I made had pasta, tomato sauce, and ricotta cheese- mixed together in various ways. I've branched out a bit since then. Anyway, it turns out he's an excellent cook. For reals! He can cook anything a lot better than most.
Since he doesn't make it home til after Little Bird and I have already eaten, I do the cooking most weeknights. But Sundays? Sundays are his night, with enough left overs for Monday night. Well, last night was no exception. Roasted chicken with veggies and garlicky rice. SFG (so fucking good!). I cleaned my plate so quickly and announced I was going back for more before I'd completely swallowed. Later in the evening, I told him how delish it was and he said, "That makes me so happy. I love when you love to eat my cooking." and that's when it hit me. Damn, I'm lucky. I mean, someone loves me enough to love when I'm happy eating something. Obv I've had this "I'm lucky" thought over the last 13 years with this guy, so this was just Sunday night's "I'm so lucky" moment. Great Sunday night. And Monday's gonna be pretty great too. How do I know? Because I have leftovers!!!