Cream linen drawstring pants + fitted white tee + salt and pepper hair + chest I love = one smokin’ husband on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
No, this is being put down for no other reason than that I don’t want to forget how yuppie cute you can look when I want you to, old man! 😉
The Bean dancing on the centre table to the Rolling Stones (!) while the OA and I work at the dining table.
In unison we say, ‘Bean! Get down.’
She ignores us. We get harsher and glare at her. ‘Bean! Get down..’
She turns away from us and towards her brother. He’s standing there quietly watching her. He puts out his arms to her. She climbs into them, he wraps his arms around her tight and carefully lifts her off and places her on the ground. Reeling under her weight, particularly since he’s just recovering from his own illness. They smile understandingly at each other…
The OA and I look on. If this were TV the canned people would go awwwwww.
What is that old one about one look of love working faster than a 100 harsh words?