Seven hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Finding the other half of the broken barrette without turning on a light or waking the baby.
The healing powers of unpasteurized honey.
My water-proof stroller cover.
Flexible plans. Also, smart phones.
Sturdy, warm, and washable baby-wearing gear.
A bus caught in the nick of time.
A forgiven bus fare.
Friends who made time to visit us despite the rain, the questionable locale, and their busy schedule.
A toybox at the office to distract a grumpy preschooler.
Another timely bus.
The fellow bus patrons who jumped up to help my stroller safely to the curb.
My preschooler, whose enthusiasm helped me see past the dropped keys and the locked house to the nearby promise of dryness and doughnuts.
The enhanced sweet scents of blossoms in the rain.
The couple who paid for our un-budgeted lunch as their daily act of kindness.
My mother-in-law, who brought over my husband's keys so I could get back in the house before the school bus came.
Ready-made freezer meals.
The toybox's handler's foresight to include a prize for the school girl who missed out on our adventure - took the "no fair" right out of her mouth.
An excuse to tackle gorgeous Russian church music and visit with a friend.
Collective memory of several bottles of champagne.
And, sprinkled throughout the day (and most of the decade prior), my husband, who fished out my keys from the crack between house and front stoop, put the kids to bed while I was out for the evening, and has dealt with such foibles, re-worked plans, fudged budgets, and so much more mixed in with the magic of eight years of marriage.
Happy anniversary, sweetheart. Yes, I am blessed to have you. To our continuing adventure!