I’m in my PJs (because I can be) with my unwashed hair in a messy bun because I am not expecting to see Eli till later tonight, when I receive a text message from him, “Can you open the door, please?â€
And I’m like… “WHAT…!â€
Standing at my front door is my man with a slice of chocolate cake.
Isn’t he just the sweetest?
—
It doesn’t matter that Eli has seen me in uglier states, including an unfortunate incident involving the regurgitation of undigested food. I don’t even let him see me in the process of getting gussied up! And this is why he can’t really surprise me with an outing because he would wind up waiting another hour to get going. Guess I need to learn from the wise women on Wisteria Lane!