I could smell it, or at least I hoped I could smell it, immediately when I walked in the door after work. And on the kitchen table it stood in all of its hearty yet delicate shape. Thanks ma. You the best ma.
And I ended the night reading that Wild book I was talking about earlier, only stopping to grab a chocolate chip cookie and some milk. I felt guilty for not enjoying the outdoors on an evening free from work, but I just wanted to read in my bed. Is that so wrong? I hope not, because I didn't shower either, and I should have.
In summation, carbohydrate laden evenings induce gratefulness. And I know there's nothing wrong with that.
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