The sun is setting earlier every evening. It's good to be home. I used to hate our house and now I love it. If you hate something and grow to love it, sometimes I wonder if it means you're actually more attached to that thing than if you liked it to begin with.
Tom walked in as I finished cleaning up the kitchen. "Sorry I made such a mess," he said.
"That's OK. It was worth it. The only problem is ... you made too much."
Actually, I was referring to the fact that I couldn't stop pouring wine. I couldn't stop eating the brown bread from John Campbell's Irish Bakery. I couldn't stop making little crostinis out of the grated Parmesan and garlic croutons. Then there was the chocolate that Deb and Eric left. I had a chocolate-covered toffee, then I started unwrapping the gold foil from the other chocolates and taking a bite just to try them. But I was careful to put them back in the box before I ate the whole candy. Eric did it, so I was sure it was proper.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," I admitted.
"You can get stapled," Tom suggested.
