She had dinner made when I walked in after work, worn out, with heavy cat litter and three dozen tins of cat food in my arms.
She doesn’t make dinner much because I am the cook, but she knew of my increasing stress at work the last couple of weeks, and these two 12 hour days I’d just done.
These are the little acts of love that matter.
It was fettuccini with parmasean cheese and some olive oil, a simple but satisfying and filling dish.
Even the dishes in the sink were done.
What a relief all I had to do was plop myself down, eat hot, satisfying food, shower all my grimy filth off, and relax in bed (at 6:59pm), and watch an unexpectedly long episode of Black Mirror.
Asleep before 9pm.