It was your typical dinner date with a man. I did all the cooking, while he just stared and drooled at the food. He didn’t have much to say, so it was up to me to come up with small talk. He came dressed very casual, shirtless and barefoot, so it’s a good thing we had decided to eat in.
What’s different, is that he was very interested in everything I said. And he seemed to appreciate just being there and being able to hold on to a tomato or carrot for me as I washed and chopped.
Afterwards we danced to Ella Fitzgerald. I had to lead and everytime I spun us around, he giggled.
Max may not remember this dinner date, but some day he may wonder why he loves listening to Ella Fitzgerald so much. And hopefully he finds himself wanting to come home for dinner dates well into his old age.
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- judy
what a sweet post xoxoxo