I think the boys in our lives must get a little annoyed with us foodie people when we get a hold of the Superbowl Sunday game day menu.
Tomato Basil Bruschetta?
Spicy Humus and Whole Wheat Pita Chips?
I’m sure their swollen, football-pumping veins must vibrate a smidge as they forcefully will themselves not to go Hulk and lose their football sh** when they discover there is not a lil’ smokey or Dorito in sight. Continue reading →
You know what I had appreciated this day on vacation?
My husband spending all day on the slopes with the kids.
That he doesn’t expect me to be outside in the freezing cold pretending to like skiing.
That he spends hours on end, hunched over, teaching and guiding each child – and doesn’t mind his burning, aching back when evening falls, because he sees the pain as a small price to invest in building a common pastime for our family.
The moments I spent with rosy cheeked and frozen fingered kids, as they sipped thick, sweet, hot cocoa in the heated lodge and told me how awesome their last ski runs were.
All those moments were snapshots I consciously clicked and logged away in the photo album of my heart.
But scrolling through the pictures this morning I was stopped short when I came to this one.