Okay I did not write this part. And also if you're like a kid please skip the sex until you get to the other section of this. Thanks to everyone whose still with me on this story.
Emily’s POV
“How’s your lunch, babe?” I ask Alison as she takes a bite of her Spicy Thai Salad. She fills her mouth too much and has to chew a few times before she can utter a sloppy ‘very good’. I smile, seeing her enjoy something makes my heart melt. I look down before she can catch me staring so blatantly, and bite into my sandwich.
“I’m glad we could go out together and enjoy a stress free lunch, like normal young couples do” Ali says, batting her eyelashes like she’s young and in love.
Well, I guess she is, huh?
“So am I, it’s refreshing to not have to clean half eaten food off of a table, off of ourselves, off of our daughter.” I say in a teasing tone.
“Don’t act like you don’t love every minute of being a mom” Ali says, seeing right through me. I sigh and sit back, feeling full.
“I have to admit it brings me incredible joy. I’m grateful to you everyday for bringing her into this world.”
“And I’m grateful to you everyday for helping me bring her up in this world. I don’t know how I could handle being a single mom” she says, looking down at her perfectly manicured nails.
“You’ll never have to know what that’s like” I respond before I can think. My mouth worked quicker than my brain did - it just flowed naturally.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
After our lunch we walked through town square hand in hand at a relaxed pace.
“What do you want to do for Honor’s 4th birthday?” Alison asked me.
“We could have a party in the backyard, we have the space. Invite all of the kids from the daycare, all of our family, we just have to figure out a theme - “ I respond, and then at the same time Ali and I both say,
“Peppa Pig!”
We erupt in laughter, knowing that we know our daughter well enough to know what she would ask for.
“Who would have thought kids would be obsessed with a british pig that jumps in puddles” Ali says, more to herself.
“Uh uh - Not just any puddles, muddy puddles” I correct her. She responds by raising her hands in defeat and I chuckle.
“Did I mention that love that flannel? My gosh.” Ali says while touching the soft fabric. Which makes me chuckle, because she gave it to me to wear with the instructions:
‘This, put this on over your crop top with the kitten ears on it. But don’t close it. The top looks cute with the shorts and chucks but this flannel puts it all together.’
I smile at her as I recall our mornings together where she is my own personal stylist. It brings her joy and I always look good so I have no complaints.
