With Wide Eyes

With wide eyes, he looks at me. With wide eyes, I look at him.  With our wide eyes, we look at each other in disbelief and shake our heads.  This repeats at least five times a day.  We can’t believe that this is our new life…
He can’t believe that riding his bike around town could be so liberating.  I can’t believe it took him so long to buy one.  He can’t believe we’re keeping the apartment so clean.  I can’t believe it’s clean at all.  He can’t believe how complete the HCC was.  I can’t believe I forgot a toaster.  He can’t believe I forgot a toaster.  I can’t believe were functioning without a toaster.  He can’t believe all the meals that can be made without meat.  I can’t believe he’s eating my food.  He can’t believe how expensive coffee is.  I can’t believe how much we’re going through.  He can’t believe how much hair I shed.  I can’t believe he has never noticed before.  He can’t believe all the fuzzies that stick out on dark green carpet.  I can’t believe he’s vacuumed more than I (apparently fuzzies get the better of him before the get the better of me.)

Oh, and I can’t believe that I overlooked the closet door being the kind that folds and therefore cannot support a shoe rack.

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