When I get to the weekend while I don't have a job, does it still count as a weekend? The old philisophical debate rages on.
Little E doesn't know it's a weekend. He certainly doesn't have a job--besides being an awesome kid--so why would he choose to sleep in? Christopher is home, which helps out, but life still rockets on, Monday or Saturday the same.
This morning we had a luxurious walk down to Elmwood, ate breakfast at Pano's (a spinach-artichoke-pesto-cheese omelette for me, cheese omelette with bacon for C, toast for E), got coffee at Cafe Aroma, and window shopped along the way. Heaven.
I'm not going to say every weekend morning is this idyllic, but when it happens, it's wonderful. To me this is why we're all here: to find pleasure and joy in the little bits.