We saw Avengers: Endgame this morning. Never in the history of my life as I remember it has there been such a push in this house to see a film before it got spoiled. Never have I cried like that during a Marvel movie. Never have I questioned the music choices so voraciously in my mind and also never have I seen classier, more appropriate credits as I did today with the actors' signatures across the screen with their superhero poses. Well done. Worth the two-week internet blackout and braving the crowds. We went out in public. With actual public. That doesn't happen much.
Just an FYI there is no end-credit scene.
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Neamhchiontach. I'm not going to bring up your activities as of the end of this week but I would like to schedule a date, if I may.
Oh good. AKA He's not going to rage at me for touching PJ (or maybe that's being touched by PJ) but Caleb does want to isolate me from everyone else during the most holiest and reverent of times.
My birthday is a week away, after all.
What sort of date?
Dinner. A drive maybe. Maybe slow-dancing in the courtyard.
You going to cook?
Would you like me to? What would I make?
Your scallops and fettucini with lemon butter and a good dry wine.
I would be honored to make that for you. And what for dessert? Cake?
Of course.
What shall we dance to?
Mascagni's Intermezzo. Or something similar.
This sounds very formal, Neamhchiontach.
As you like it.
Do you like it, is the question?
I can wear my McQueen.
I would be delighted if you did. Sunday?
Friday.
You have plans Sunday?
That's a family day for everyone.
And Saturday?
Lochlan and Ben get that. If not Friday we can do the Monday after?
Friday is perfect. I can shop ahead. It is supposed to rain, however.
That's perfect. I love the gazebo when it's raining.
I do too. He smiles very big at me and I return it. For once it's without dread or hesitation. For once I'm looking forward to time with him.