One of the times I look forward to the most every week is Saturday mornings. Not just because I don’t have to go to work, but it’s generally the time hubby and I have our ‘just us’ time.
On Saturday mornings, instead of being jarred awake at the sound of the alarm before groggily reaching over to the bedside table to switch it off, my body clock nudges me awake gently and I let my eyes peek open to the glorious feeling of being able to snuggle under the covers as long as I want to. Then hubby and I exchange good mornings before we share some pillow talk… simply lying back in bed and just talking.
Sometimes we talk about ‘important’ stuff like about the changes that will happen when little boy blue arrives or things we need to get done around the house or career plans; sometimes it’s very deep and chim stuff like our thoughts on a sermon we heard, a book ‘we’ (read: I) read; or casual stuff like something we chatted about to someone we bumped into or a funny joke we heard, a movie we watched; sometimes it’s personal stuff like family concerns or personal worries; and sometimes we try and be clever and start trying to solve and debate over world problems… like the political issues in Malaysia, the current Australian election etc. (we usually don’t get very far with the latter)… pretty much anything and everything under the sun… “shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings!”
Usually the ‘pillow talk’ continues on as we adjourn to breakfast. Which is why I always try and prepare something extra special for brekkie on Saturday mornings. This recent Saturday’s menu was french toast.
It’s not the fanciest of brekkie foods, but french toast always holds a special place in my heart because it was the first thing hubby ever cooked for me in our shared history back from our early pak tor days. I’ll always remember that one morning when I ventured down to Nedlands to meet up for a ‘study session’ at UWA. Hubs (then BF) met me at the bus stop with homemade french toast and jam. So sweet hor?
I really love this ‘just us’ time of the week so much that I felt bit sad thinking how this routine will change once pregnancy morphs into parenthood.
I remarked to hubby with a tone of regret: “I’m really going to miss ‘us’”
And hubs was all: “Huh? Why? What do you mean???”
After explaining what I meant, hubby tried to be as assuring as possible saying that we would always carve out time like this so we will always remember the original ‘just us’.
It was nice to know that he treasured this time too and was on the same page with me to continue to make it a priority. All the same, I think there is a part of this which will shift into history and we can only look back on with fond memories and nostalgia.