How a short dinner with ex can make things okay.

Dylan likes a sun-warmed walkway.

Kitten likes a warm bed.

Mario had a learner expo yesterday evening, which is hippie speak for a school open house. I roasted a chicken, mashed potatoes and invited ex to join us for dinner and asked if he'd make gravy. I arrived home to him in my kitchen, pulling a bowl from a shelf for beans. The gravy boat was filled and the sink too with the dirty roasting pan. Just like old times. We were like old times. He was quiet and seemed depressed and I, flaming co that I am, thought it was my fault and tried to lighten the mood by talking. (My emotional tourettes kicked in.) Ugh. I know he has so much to offer his kids and so many interesting thoughts swimming around his big brain, but they get stuck on their way to his mouth. It breaks my heart. But I am grateful I don't have to fix that problem anymore.


P.S. On a happier note, I included gratuitous cute cat photos.