August 26, 2012

My dearest,

“This,” you mutter in between bites, “is pretty good salad.”

I nod but you’re not done yet.

“The honey they used in the dressing is just nice, not too overpowering. But it’s no where as good as the dressing you made for your salad, you know, the one with the toasted nuts and the sesame oil — it was so good. If we ever opened a café of our own, you must put that salad of yours on the menu.”

You never cease to surprise me. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

Yours, ever and always.