Perfect weekends

We fill the house with smoke and the smell of thick-sliced bacon, and the snow is turning to slush outside but blankets wrapped tight surround us. We will put on a good movie, or a really terrible one, or both in one day. We will eat breakfast for lunch and a banana split for dinner. We will rush out of the house on a Sunday morning to make it to noon prayers at the House of Worship, pinch the cheeks of some beautiful infants, stomp our feet in the cold of Chicago snowy winters, and listen to the choir.

We will smile at each other as our noses freeze and we curse the cold, but it is just an excuse to be closer to everyone we love.

These are the weekends that fade, but the moments are just perfect.