A fly on the wall.

It's a quiet night. The kind that makes you wish you lived out in the country where every single night could be like this. I haven't noticed an absence of noise this great in God knows how long. I'm savoring the minutes before Chris gets home to tell me what happened with his friend whose girlfriend of 7 years just broke up with him with fast food breath.

Chris' breath, not the girls.

Then I'll sink down into bed, intertwine my legs with his, and we'll have "bedtime talk" just like we do every single night. I wonder if other couples do this too. There will be things said between us in the 10 minutes right before sleep that probably would never have come about had we not unknowingly slipped into this ritual.

He's home.