It’s my husband’s birthday. This is not my husband.
This is Cleo, our passive but noisy lab. Greg – said husband – and I spend a lot of time saying things to each other like “…what’s Cleo barking at?” or “why is she barking now?”
We spend a lot of time saying things like “what’s for dinner?”
“Are the painters coming today?”
“Did we hang Platform One yet?”
But once in a blue Lawrence moon, we go somewhere different…
…and say other things.
Somewhere that is not very well lit.
Somewhere where we did not have to order the fixtures…
…just bread and olives, pizza and red wine.
Somewhere that is not a question. We smile and don’t say much of anything.
Happy Birthday, Greg.