I took a big bite of Whole Bowl (a well-known Portland favorite), and then you leaned in for a kiss and said, “You taste like olives!”(your least favorite food)
I asked, “Do you still want to kiss me?” …
“Yes, I’ll kiss you even when we’re old and you smell like moth balls…” you shared with quiet excitement and the sweetest, kindest love.
8 hours later you added, “But I’m counting on my sense of smell to be pretty bad by then…”
Thank you for making me laugh every. single. day. I love you.
(Everyday I try to remember at least one thing that makes me laugh hysterically or captures who and where we are at this point in time. I want to always remember what it’s like to be us…)