Sunday Mornings

When we were dating, David and I spent Sunday mornings at his Brooklyn apartment in our pajamas with the New York Times, coffee, and a box of crunch mini donuts. Spending all morning reading and getting crumbs all over the bed (it’s ok; Sunday is also laundry day) was fantastic, and I wasn’t about to give it up just because we no longer have a bodega downstairs and instead have a tiny, demanding baby.

So we did our best to make it work.

It’s not as relaxing as it used to be, but we did successfully spend our morning and early afternoon in bed. We hung out with Penny and read magazines and had a delicious breakfast of coffee and Mojo Monkey donuts that Mary brought over for us in honor of David’s recent birthday. In a few years we’ll make a point to go to the library on Saturdays so that Penny can have her own reading material for Sunday mornings. In the meantime, this is just fine.

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About Kelly

Kelly grew up in the suburbs of Boston, mere minutes from the Atlantic ocean. For several years she lived in New York City where she found the two loves of her life: Publishing and David. She moved to the Twin Cities for her husband, and eventually managed to pick up the pieces of her career as well. Although sheโ€™s learning to appreciate lakes, she misses the ocean ferociously.

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2 Responses to Sunday Mornings

  1. Rachel April 8, 2014 at 1:14 pm #

    Oh my GOODNESS, the red hair on this child. I cannot.

    • Kelly April 9, 2014 at 7:21 am #

      I know, right? Every morning I wake up afraid it will have faded, but it just gets brighter every day.

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