How Does He Put Up With Me?

The other day Steven and I were walking through Prospect Park, pushing a gently sleeping Milo along in his stroller. It was unseasonably warm for January, and we were wearing thin wool coats and gloves.

I looked up at the pale blue winter sky and the bare trees and across the rolling hills of the park, which was mostly empty save for a few scenic dogs out fetching sticks or frisbees or whatever it is dogs fetch, and I turned to Steven and said, "sometimes this park is so beautiful it makes me want to cry."

"Mmhmm," Steven replied.

Pause.

"Wow. That was probably the girliest sentence I've ever said."

"Mmhmm," said Steven.