Saturday Morning. This Saturday morning.
Tastes like.........coffee. One black. One with half and half. Warm, not too hot. Down the hatch. And baby cheeks from all the baby kisses. And fluffy, powdered-sugar-on-top-cinnamon raisin bread.
Sounds like....Miles Davis "Kind of Blue". Dancing bouts. Laughing bursts. Baby coos. And baby conversations, loud and soft. And Miles Davis, volume up, volume down. And singing with babies, volume up, volume down. And pots clanging loudly, then not at all. And scrubbing the counter-tops, and moving all of the objects who live in our kitchen so their spots can be dusted and clean. And moving objects back to their places. And tap tap click clack typing. And tapping feet. And the baby's asleep. And Miles Davis is still playing.
Smells like.....Burt's Baby Soap. And opened windows to Springtime air protruding through the late late winter morning. Smells like new born flowers just popping out of the earth with the morning dew still stuck to the green shoots. Which are everywhere. Calling us to take a walk. Calling our names.
Feels like.....snuggling with blankets and more kisses. Baby food is everywhere due to an untimely sneeze. Fresh air rushing into the house. Plastic is taken down from the wintered windows. We can breathe again. Freedom.
Looks like.....love. Happiness.
No, I didn't get a manicure today. I decided this was better. I'll get one some other day. As Meatloaf says, "Two out of three ain't bad." We're still getting a teapot. I'm still baking a cake. We just bought a new fridge (which we desperately needed because our old one started producing goo, hopefully not because of a secret vortex connecting it to the land of Vigo from Ghostbusters 2) so there really isn't extra money to get a teapot AND a manicure. Sometimes you've gotta do what you've gotta do.
Besides, sometimes it's just more fun to be an adult.