The Dance

Sometimes you get one of those perfect moments. Fleeting minutes where your steps fall into place with flawless grace.

We had one of those moments last night.

Bekah and Christian were out running errands so I was home with Zu and JJ. I started cooking dinner. Boiling water for pasta, browning ground beef for the sauce, getting peas into the microwave.

After a stop at the grocery store, Bekah and Christian arrived at the house. Without any exchange of instructions, Bekah entered the kitchen and picked up what I had yet to finish - preparing the asparagus and getting the Texas toast into the oven.

We talked small talk and sang along with the music playing in the background. Everything Will Be Alright by All Star United. Let It Be by The Beatles.

We effortlessly moved around the kitchen without bumping into each other. It was like a dance.

I moved from the stove to the sink as she moved from the sink to the counter. She moved to the microwave as I wiped off the counters. I moved back to the stove as she opened the fridge. She set the table as I pulled the dishes out of the cabinets. I drained the pasta as she checked the microwave.

It should be known that we have a small kitchen. It's nearly impossible to navigate a full meal with more than one lone chef handling the cooking responsibilities. On most nights it's either all Bekah or all me. When we do share the cooking duties, our time in the kitchen is more like a mosh pit than a fine waltz.

But there are moments that are just right. Glimmers of perfection.

These are the moments that remind me why we fell in love.