Yesterday morning I rolled over in bed, half asleep and mumbled to Silas "I just dreamed that you brought me blueberry cake doughnuts from Dunkin' doughnuts." There was a pause. Silas was slipping into conscientiousness. "Oh, really." Silas mumbled back, much closer to the asleep side of 'half asleep' than I was. "Mhm." I said. No response from Silas. "I like you better than blueberry cake doughnuts." I said. Silas's hand appeared from under the sheets and patted my head, then returned from whence it came. Silas didn't even open his eyes. "But aren't blueberry cake doughnuts amazing?" I asked before drifting back to sleep.
When I woke up again Silas was getting dressed. He'd already showered and he was putting on his socks and shoes. Now, Silas only wears shoes when he positively has to, so I knew this meant he was going out. Very unusual for a Sunday morning. The usual Sunday morning routine is to sleep in till the last possible minute, then shower and dress in a whirlwind, and barely make it out the door in time for church. I asked him where he was going and he responded that we were out of the cheese we needed for him to make me scrambled eggs.
Side note: This is one of my favorite things about weekends. Silas makes his scrambled eggs for me. He makes the best scrambled eggs ever. Like, really. I won't even try to make scrambled eggs as amazing as Silas's. They're soft and cheesy and mixed with a ton of delicious herbs. They are just the best! Usually he makes them on Saturday mornings, but we had overslept for a lecture on Saturday morning so we didn't have time - thus the eggs on Sunday morning.
I informed Silas that we did indeed have the cheese, it was just not in its usual place in the fridge. "Oh" he said "then I won't go buy any". I went off to take a shower. But when I emerged and headed down stairs to get me some eggs Silas was gone. I assumed we were out of something else he needed, so I went upstairs to get dressed for church. He was gone for quite awhile. When I finally heard him come in the door I went down to see what took him so long.
As I entered the kitchen where he was busily preparing scrambled eggs, the box sitting on the table said it all. The man had gone all the way to Squirrel Hill on a Sunday morning to bring me blueberry cake doughnuts from Dunkin' Doughnuts. I may or may not have died a little. "Is that what I think it is?" I said, pointing to the box. "I don't know, what do you think it is?" he said, feigning annoyance. "You're the best husband ever." "Psht. Whatever." He made a show of rolling his eyes. But I saw the smirk on his face.
I sat there in the kitchen. Watching him make eggs. Shoveling blueberry cake doughnuts into my mouth. And I thought to myself this is the life.