Ladies and gentleman, we’ve had a break through. It all started Sunday morning when I found myself snuggled in bed with The Wedding Date for the third installment of the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries.
(Yes, we’re watching Jane Austen together. It was part of the deal I made to watch Star Wars.)
The only problem with the 1995 Pride and Prejudice miniseries is that it’s rather long. Six hours to be exact, and even though they’re six hours of Colin Firth goodness, a fictional Edwardian gentleman can only go so far in satisfying a woman’s a needs. And I was hungry.
“How do you feel about breakfast in bed?” I asked The Wedding Date.
“Not good,” he replied. Keep in mind this is the same man who practically had a heart attack when I tried to bring a Tupperware of cookies into his living room on our third date.
But that was nearly a year ago. Since then, we’ve worked up to wine on the coffee table, water on the nightstand and even popcorn on the car on special occasions. Breakfast in bed, as far as I was concerned, was the final frontier.
Without waiting for TWD to elaborate, I made my way to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Kashi’s Indigo Morning cereal with blueberries and almond milk.
After a few moments of consideration, he sighed and asked, “How much milk?”
“Hardly any!” I assured him. “Less than an inch.” In truth, I’d poured no less milk than usual but I felt no need to reveal this to TWD.
Before he could protest, I stepped back into bed with my cereal and smiled my very best “You know you love me” smile.
“You know I have never done this before?” he asked. “Like ever?”
“I’m sure you haven’t,” I replied. “But don’t you see what wonderful things I am introducing into your life? Jane Austen… Breakfast in bed… you should be thanking me!”
He grumbled, but he didn’t kick me out of bed. Nor did he have a heart attack. He even admitted that Pride and Prejudice was better than he thought it would be.
Now this is progress.