Now Saturday mornings look like a breakfast crime scene.
Pancake batter on the counter.
Syrup on the table.
A dog committing theft.
"Daisy!" Maddie shouts.
Too late.
The dog has already escaped with a full strip of bacon hanging from her mouth like a victory flag.
"Hey! That was my bacon," I say.
Maddie shrugs from the kitchen stool.
"You should guard it better, Daddy," she says.
Natalie laughs from the coffee machine.
That laugh still gets me.
Not in a dramatic, fall-to-your-knees way.
Just the quiet kind of moment where you catch yourself thinking, yeah, this is my life now. And I like it.
Natalie.
In my kitchen.
In my life.
She pours coffee into two mugs and slides one toward me across the counter.
The mug says WORLD'S OKAYEST HUSBAND.
Dex gave it to her as a wedding gift.
He thought it was hilarious.
Natalie still thinks it’s hilarious.
I take the mug.
"I still think we should burn this," I say.
"You say that every morning," Natalie replies.
"Because every morning I wake up disrespected in my own home."
"You’re being dramatic before caffeine again," she says.
"I’m being bullied by novelty ceramics. Courtesy of Dex."
She smiles into her coffee. "And yet you keep drinking from it."
"That’s survival."
