Too Much Perfection

There's a scene in the movie Bed of Roses (which, if you haven't seen, is not a movie you need to run out and watch.... unless you're a fan of weepy chick flicks and/or Mary Stuart Masterson and Christian Slater) where the two main characters are walking and talking about roses.  She tells him that she sort of likes that they have thorns, because otherwise they would just be too perfect.  He tells her that he thinks there's no such thing as too much perfection, and later sends her a bunch of roses with a card thanking her for their day of "too much perfection."  Aww. 

I think of that phrase sometimes, on the days when everything just... aligns.  It's not even on the most unusual days, or exciting days, but on the happy days.   On the days when we're all just engaged and alive and in the moment.

Today was one of those days.

We had a lazy morning, then packed up the dog and headed to my sister's.  We got there just as the Barro's pizza guy was arriving, and enjoyed a few slices of pizza and warm chocolate chip cookies (which, it should be noted, that I insanely LOVED, even though they had ground bits of nuts in them.  Sneaky sister)  Then we headed out on walk through the wash up to a playground the kids and I have never been to before.

The playground was one of the cool ones... not your traditional swings and slides, but strange and creative and climbable works of art.

After everyone had had their fill of climbing and spinning, we headed back to the house for icecream, taking a different path than we'd taken before.  We encountered a little river of mud, and the kids quickly went to work making a bridge for us to get over it (after they'd amused themselves by muddying up their own shoes)

Back at the house, my nephew was thrilled, the jumping and squealing kind of thrilled, to find that the ants for his new ant habitat had been delivered. 

So we spent the next hour watching the ants, rooting them on as they explored a tiny corner of their new environment.

We finished up the visit as we usually do... outside, with the kids playing in the common area (and using the wagon as a luge to fly down the hill) and the dogs running laps around the grass.

And when we finally went home, it was my turn for squealing and jumping, when I found that not only had this been delivered:

but that Mike had also gotten it all set up and ready for me.

We had Subway for dinner, and all relaxed into our own projects for the rest of the evening.

Too much perfection.