Yesterday, Paul did the sweetest thing. He made me breakfast. It was a pretty big deal. He realized it was the 1st time he's ever cooked in our kitchen (we've been living there for 7+ months).
We were supposed to go to my friends house for dinner, but after some pretty emotional family drama unfolded, I was forced to cancel unable to predict my emotional stability. Paul was a bit disappointed because he wanted to attempt to make me a fancy dinner that night, but the Steve plans didn't allow it. Now there was no more dinner with Steve, but he hadn't had the time to prepare. Instead he promised to make me breakfast.
He set his alarm for 30 minutes earlier than I had to wake up, got in the kitchen before I was even in the shower to set himself up. He ended up making me eggs over easy, crescent rolls, turkey bacon, cheddar cheese and coffee. It was oh so delicious and such a sweet gesture. I'd take something like this over flowers and chocolates ANY day. He set up 2 TV trays to mimic a dining table in the living room and we sat and ate, chatted, laughed, it was great. My only regret is having to eat and leave... work called and I was already 15 minutes late.
It was just a great morning... I couldn't not write about it.