Write about something that is: delicate.
Our little Max turned two months old today. That soft, subtle sound you hear is time zipping past.
We had a big snowfall overnight, which made sure the snow we already had didn't have a chance to melt into puddles and mud. I should really get out there and take a picture to share with you guys, as it's quite beautiful.
Which means I should get on that before the rain comes to wash it all away.
Which, apparently, will be on Wednesday.
So... tomorrow it is then.
"Hello, Darling! I'm home from another busy day at the office!"
Busy doing what, exactly? Your new secretary?
"Hi, Honey. Good to see you made it home safely - I heard on the radio that traffic was especially bad today."
"Oh, you just have no idea. Maniacs behind the wheel, all of them."
Well you're still alive, so I guess they're not quite maniacal enough.
"Mmm, you poor thing."
"So what's on the menu for tonight, Precious?"
Your head on this platter if you call me that one more time.
"There's a roast in the oven and a potato salad in the fridge - with extra dill, of course. Just how you like it."
"Oh you are just the absolute best!"
I wonder if I could put this steak knife through his eye from here...
"I couldn't possibly be the best, Sweetums. That title already belongs to you!"
"You are much too good to me, my delicate flower. Much too good. I'll be in the living room watching TV - just give me a shout when dinner's on the table."
If you're watching sports again I'm going to take this frying pan to the back of your balding head.
"Will do, my dearest. Will do."