A Good Morning Story

My husband works the graveyard shift. That means he comes home to sleep at 6:30 am. Today I woke up at 6:15 to ah, relieve myself, (gotta love being pregnant) and decided to wait up for him. I put a heat-pack on his side of the bed to warm it up, arranged his pillows, and then climbed back under the covers to warm back up* while I waited for his return. 

6:40, and he didn't show. Usually he'd have been home 40 minutes before. Just then my ears detected a snow plow on the street. Aha! I thought, Dylan must've been held up cleaning the car before he could drive home! Then I heard a shovel scrape. Pushing my arms into the sleeves of a robe, I snuck to the front curtains of the living room to inspect the scene outside. Dylan was home! And he was shoveling the walk! Scampering silently into the kitchen I prepared a mug of hot cocoa for him. Two minutes later he sipped it slowly in the kitchen while his soaked sneakers began to dry on the porch. 

"I feel nauseous," my lips pouted. Pregnancy, pregnancy, pregnancy.

"Shall I get you food?" Dylan sweetly asked. 

"No thanks," I pouted more. "I would eat cereal, but we have this much milk," I said, raising the teensy-pinch measurement.

"Would you like me to go get you some?" 

Thinking very quickly that he didn't appear tired and that I really did need milk, I answered, "Can I come?" 

Quickly bundling into my boots and coat, Dylan and I drove off into the dimly-blue-dawn of fallen snow, snowflakes collecting in my hair as we walked hand in hand into the BYU Creamery. Oooh, it was so much fun to be together so early in the morning! With SNOW! We told jokes and laughed as we scooped up our klim.

A mischievous smirk snuck onto Dylan's face as he put the jeep into gear to drive home. 

"I was going to surprise you tomorrow, but it'll be more fun today," he said, driving not home, but to Provo Bakery.

I twirled in parking lot snow merrily before we opened the bakery door and were perfumed by hundreds of pleasantly sweet, glazed, spiced, baking wonderment scents. Breathing deeply, we selected our treasures. So good so good so good. Until this morning, Dylan had never been to Provo Bakery when they first open. I can easily say he enjoyed the experience; I'm not sure which was more glazed-over when we left, Dylan's eyes, or the doughnut in my hand. :)

What fun, what fun we had together! Our anniversary is Sunday, and I can hardly believe we've only been married a year. Everything is still bright snowy white with happiness whenever he's around. Just like this morning. 

*To save money our house is 62 degrees at night, which feels very cold in just my pajamas. Before you freak, understand that we maintain a balmy 68 during the day.