So, Saturday night, B said he wished we'd gotten a Redbox movie to watch. I reminded him we just got a new Netflix movie the day before, so please, save that dollar! Which always turns into five dollars by the time we watch the movie and return it. Which actually turns into eight dollars, once you add the three dollars and change I end up spending on a coke and chocolate chip cookies at McDonald's...I can't go there and drop off the Redbox movie and NOT go through the drive-thru. Hey...I'm still eating for two here...right?
I'm not waiting for an answer.
He asked me what it was, and when I told him Love Actually, he looked skeptical. In fact, he kind of looked at me like "how-come-my-gifted-Netflix-subscription-keeps-sending-me-smooshy-movies-that-I-didn't-pick-out."
It didn't sound like there would be much action and gunning in a title like Love Actually. But I told him it is a romantic comedy, so maybe it would be funny. Mind you, I had no idea if it actually was a romantic comedy, or not. I was only guessing.
Suffice it to say that he was asleep on the couch about halfway through the movie. So was the baby. She just couldn't get into it. So there I was, covered by my babies, listening to them snore...trapped underneath them. B was resting his head on my lap, and the baby was all sprawled out, half on top of him and half in my arms. As the movie finally ended and the credits started to roll, I just looked around the room. It was so quiet in the house. They were both so heavy and sleeping so soundly. I knew they were both really comfortable. I felt such a huge surge of...
the six gallons of sweet tea from lunch and the hot chocolate I'd just finished.
You thought I was going to say love, didn't you? Or something equally smooshy?
I didn't feel the love again until I could untangle myself, get up, and go.
Then, I felt the love. But only then.