Two Cooks in the Kitchen

Most nights, it’s just me in the kitchen cooking or baking or cleaning up, which is honestly how I prefer it. In there, I can zone out and cook and listen to Bossa Nova music while sipping wine as PJ works out upstairs and the kids watch TV or play outside. But tonight was different.

PJ joined me in the kitchen; he was making homemade strawberry jam while I was prepping for tonight’s dinner, and I found myself loving it. Like, I could get used to this type of loving it.

Our kitchen isn’t large by any means, but it felt like the right size with the two of us in there- him doing his thing and me doing mine, shuffling around each other and scooting out of the way when one of us needed to get by. It felt right, as I’ve found most things in life do when we do them together. We all ate outside on the back deck during golden hour and it seemed, at least for a little while, that everything was right in the world.

I always say I want to do everything in the world with PJ, and I’m feeling especially lucky tonight for this life where I have the chance to try.

I suppose my only delete for the day would be not finishing everything on my to-do list. It’s piled up this week with looming deadlines and seemingly not enough hours in the day to complete everything. Oh well. There’s always tomorrow, right?