Juliette put some cherries in my lunch the other day, and I had fun spitting them into the garbage can by my desk.
It's kind of an odd thing, having my wife make my lunch for me. Nice, but odd. The feeling of opening a lunch bag and discovering what's inside is certainly a familiar one, but it's not one I've had regularly in quite a long time.
I've heard people say that all men want to be mothered, that we all just want to be boys again. I don't know to what degree this is true for me, but the possibility that it is true at all is something that I find a bit troubling. Perhaps I'm overthinking things.