The Best Ever

Scene: Friday night, 6 p.m.

I walk into the living room (laden with bags that carry butter, olives, bleach, and impulse purchases of wine) to candles aglow on the coffee table and a steaming tub of scented water to soak my feet after a long day of work. Also, a martini, awaiting the required 4 olives and a splash of olive juice to sip while I soak my tired feet. The Rev. is good.

"We were married 7 years ago."

"Can you believe it? In fifty years we will be talking about what we did on our wedding day."

"That was one of the best days of my life."

"What do you mean that was one of the best days of your life?"

"I mean that was one of the best days of my life. I've had many."

"No, I think you mean, it was the best day of your life."

"You are so right."

I know he was just saying that to keep the peace.

The highlight of the evening came about an hour later when we were dining al fresco to a dinner of grilled tuna and trout, rice, and squash. I was facing The Rev. and the little fire pit where he had balanced a grill was directly behind him. Butch, one of our cats, and Dixie, our beagle, were both salivating at the scent coming off of the firepit.

"What is our dog doing?"

(I lean over to the right to see what our dog is doing.)

"She just pulled a whole trout off of the grill and is devouring it in the grass."

"What?"

"You know, Amanda and I coined a new phrase today."

"What was it?"

"That is as classy as boxed wine."


I love my life.