She baffles me.
I lean against the doorframe, careful not to make a noise to alert her of my presence. She is still wearing her p.j.s while her hair is pinned up in messy pigtails. Her movements are careful and quiet. She slides around the counter to the cupboards on her tiptoes reaching for a coffee cup, which causes me to smirk. I watch as her slender fingers wrap around the handle and gently place it on the counter. She pours herself a cup as she starts on her task to make breakfast.
I hear the soft humming of a tune while a take a seat at the table. The tune sounds familiar though I can't put a name to it. It's peaceful.
She already had the morning paper laid out for me along with my coffee though I don't make a move for it. I would hate to miss the view. These simple little moments remind me of why I love her. She is so sweet, innocent, and pure and would do anything to please me.
These are also the moments that make me question why she loves me. She does nothing but bestow her unconditional love upon me and all I do is push her away. I belittle her efforts and am always demeaning in tone. I am torn away from my thoughts as I look up at her baby blue eyes and hear the sweet familiar voice say "Good mornin' Puddin'."
