Tonight we sat, as we typically do when Daddy isn't working at the firestation, around the dinner table waiting for the kids to finish their meals.
Content with our bellies full and the stories of the kids first day back at school being told, I look at my husband and feel lucky. Not only is he the father of my children, he really is my partner. I could not ask for someone more intelligent, supportive or loving than him.
I sit at the dining room table and just stare at him.
"Okay boys, make sure all your homework is done after dinner," he says enthusiastically.
I think, "Hmmm, maybe he's going to pour me a hot bath, light some candles and put the kids to bed for me so I can relax in the tub reading my new book."
"Why Dad?" one of them asks.
"Because American Gladiators is on at eight, dude!" he answers.
I feel like a seventeen-year-old again, and not in a good way.
At least he lets me read his magazines,
Because if he didn't, I'd have absolutely nothing to do this evening (other than read my book).