(The Story He Had Nothing to Do With Because He Wouldn't Tell Me What to Write About)

The Perfect Morning

He silently leaned over and watched her sleeping form. Once he kissed her forehead lightly, he rose and left the room. Light and quiet as he was, she woke, stretching her stiff body and yawning. This night before came into her mind and she smiled. They'd had a rare night alone last night and he'd devoted it all to her. At first, she worried that he wasn't enjoying the night as she was, but before long she realized he was. His smile told it all.

They were able to devote their entire beings to each other, to talk without boundaries, to "waste" time as they pleased, to love without distraction for as long as they wanted.

She sat up and her eyes met the Wii. She giggled. He'd challenged her to a game of bowling, but had been cursed with a nearly dead remote that brought her low scores to first place. She'd laughed at his mock frustration. He was just happy to be spending time with her. Once she won with a terribly low score, he'd chased her through the house, a good tickling as consequence for her winning.

She threw the covers off her, but thought better of herself when the cold air met her naked body. Covering herself again, she spotted one of his long sleeve shirts. She ran to it and threw it on. Afterwards, she found some pajama shorts and went to brush her teeth.

Once finished, she went to their bedroom door and opened it, the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes hitting her. She inhaled happily, then silently headed for the kitchen downstairs.

His back was to her when she arrived as he waited to flip the pancakes. She silently went to him and circled his waist with her arms.

Before she touched him, he sensed her presence though she had made no sound.

"Good morning," he smiled as she hugged him. She giggled and he hugged her back best he could with his back to her.

They made small conversation as he cooked, mostly just enjoying being with each other.

Once he finished, he put the food in the oven to keep it warm. He turned to her and took in the sight of her.

She was beautiful, even covered in sleep. Her hair was in disarray, her makeup from last night was slightly smeared, and his large shirt was hanging off her shoulder, but love was radiating from her. He cupped her face with his hands and smiled at her. No words were shared, but the moment was full of "I love yous."

He leaned down and kissed her softly, then he heard the front door open.

She pulled away with a huge grin on her face. His own mirrored her smile. Soon, a small, fast blur of brown hair rushed at them.

"Mommie! Daddy!"

She reached down and lifted their daughter between them as the young girl's grandmother made it to the kitchen with the girl's bags.

The four of them sat down and enjoyed a delicious breakfast as they listened to the girl tell the story of her night.

He looked at his daughter. She was almost an exact replica of his wife. They shared the hair, the mannerisms, and so much more, but the smile most of all, the smile they were both wearing. Her eyes were different though. Those were his.

She looked at her husband and the smile on his face, and their eyes met. Her smile grew, and then she looked at her small daughter as she spoke mostly made up words, her voice still thick with the accent of infancy.

She thought to herself how truly happy she was.