Just another night

It’s Tuesday night, which means nothing in particular. I got home a little earlier than expected, which meant I had the chance to perform a little post-Screen-on-the-Green kitchen cleanup, take out the trash, and fit in a short workout before Peter and Sarah got back from a walk. Sarah’s wedged between her laptop and the new printer on the floor about ten feet away from me, surrounded by random pretty papers. She’s designing and laying out her wedding invitations. From my perch on the plaid chair, I’m watching her fiancé in the kitchen. He’s making some sort of sandwiches for dinner and appears to be making a disproportionate number of dishes considering that we’re having sandwiches. Boys will be boys.

None of this is particularly unusual, but I am noticing it tonight – not even due to my usual sentimentality, but because I’m learning more with each passing day how precious these little moments are. I blame it on the recent baby boom. I know two couples that have welcomed little ones in the last week, and my press secretary’s wife is due any moment. And some dear friends’ daughter just turned one. Next thing you know, these little ones will be school-aged, then teenagers, then adults… just as every generation before has done.

Tempus fugit. All this planning is going to result in a wedding in a couple months, and life as I’ve known it for the last four years is going to change. And it’s not a bad thing. I just don’t want to forget the simple, quiet times I’ve been given with my friends. Because I know it won’t last forever. Which is part of what makes it so sweet.

So I play one of my favorite soundtracks and sip on the latest result of my propensity for spontaneous mixology – lemon Italian soda and rum over ice.

Just another wonderful night in Alexandria.