What is it about going home that makes everything seem right?
Last week Mom and I stayed up late baking caramel pecan squares, swooning over paint colors for her bedroom remodel, and drinking more wine than is appropriate on a Wednesday evening. It was perfect.
Dad filled me in on all of his new projects, and drove me to the train in the morning, waiting with the seat warmers turned up high.
Life is pretty wonderful like that.
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