I noticed how sweet it was to come in from five hours of feeling snookered by a nine week old baby and find my husband had not only cooked meatloaf, but waited to eat it until I got home at 10pm. I also noticed that it tasted a whole lot better than the last couple of meatloaves I made.
Then I noticed that chocolate chip cookies that have been sitting on a plate that sits over the oven vent are heated to a perfect temperature, the chocolate melted and cookies warm. Yum.
P.S. The baby in the blue polka dotted shoes in yesterday's post is my grand baby, Gracie, not the baby that pulled the "I'll close my eyes and pretend I'm asleep til she puts me down then I'll scream like she pinched me so mom will come running" routine on me tonight.