Dear Fagin,
Don't you just love the ease of Summer? Don't you just love how Summer is the only thing I can talk about lately? Duuuuuuuude, I just can't help myself! There's nothing like having a long day getting a lot done and at the end of it thinking, "Saints alive, it's 7:00! Whatever shall I serve for supper?"
Or just, "Oh crud, whadderwegonnaeat?"
Here's where it gets beautiful, though. The Man flips on his gas grill, and in five minutes we've got chicken and asparagus sizzling while I whip up my most favoritest Caesar salad. Then we carry it all out to the back of the yard and pinch ourselves because it's all just too... heavenly. (There'll be food in Heaven, right? I mean, there's gotta be.)
Do I sounds braggy? Don't worry, it's not like this most nights. Last night we had frozen pizza with a side of bat poop. But the wonderful thing about Summer is that sometimes, often when you're least expecting it, those perfect moments and magazine meals do happen.
And the livin' is easy.
Hook
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