Breakfast

For those of you who took one look at the length of my last post and said, "I just don't have the energy to tackle that," here is an itty-bitty post.

Enough to get your Corey/Stacie fix for the day.

Or week.

Or year if you reeeeeally dislike us.

It's on the subject of love.

Or guilt.

I haven't decided.

Yesterday Corey was not on his best behavior.  The day both started and ended with things not so pleasant.  Luckily this time he knew what was best and did not push the issue as I crawled into bed.

We don't mess with this lady's 8+ hours.

So this morning as I was in my little reading nook, getting some quiet time in before work I heard movement downstairs in the kitchen.

First the microwave, then rummaging through storage containers, followed by liquid poured into a cup.

Next thing I knew I was being handed a bowl of oatmeal, just how I like it, minus walnuts because I ran out, and a cup of orange juice.

Nothing said, just a presentation of breakfast and hasty retreat.

This man gets on my very last nerve, but at least he knows what to do to make it right.

The End.