For those of you who are counting, we are on Day 30.

I’m in my kitchen, writing, while Sheldon makes an omelet for Katy. Katy is emptying the dishwasher, and probably putting everything in the wrong place.

I’m writing in the morning because yesterday, I did not. Yesterday, we gorged on pizza and pasta. We watched five hours of Dexter. We spent in the day in our pajamas from the night before. We napped. I didn’t look at my phone, the news, or social media.

This morning, I slept in until 9 am. I’m moving slowing thru the morning because my body aches when I spent a day on the sofa. I am not complaining, I recommend a day on the sofa to everyone.

Sheldon is screaming “Where is the spatula?” like there’s the possibility someone broke into the house and stole it.

Katy keeps asking me “How’s your blog?” like she’s humoring me. When I answer “Fine,” she says “why would you say fine? That’s an odd answer.” I am trying to ignore her, but when I do, she taps my leg with her foot. She is wearing my slippers.

Sophie is barking and Katy is complaining that the cheese in her omelet was not well distributed- “there is a thick block of cheese in the middle,” then moves on questions about the orange juice- was it shaken? “Are you sure you shook it, because I don’t know.” After breakfast, she jumps up from the table, and kisses her dad on the cheek. “Thank you for breakfast, it was amazing! I mean, next time, the cheese-” Sheldon answers- “Next time, I will make you an omelet with lima beans and pickles.” and goes onto label her “beyond fussy” before offering to toast her an English muffin.

Sophie is looking out the window, Michael and Maurice are sleeping upstairs.

We were mostly quiet yesterday, as we ate and napped and watched tv, and ate some more.

Maybe we had run out of conversation.

At the breakfast table, Easter morning, it seems like we’ve found our words.

Katy’s boyfriend visited this morning, and brought her an Easter basket. He stood on the sidewalk, she at the top of the stairs. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but his mom sent a picture.

They are happy, and laughing. They are trying to make things work.

I think we’re getting a little better at this.

It’s going to be a beautiful, weird, and wonderful day.

Peace be with you.

Julie