on little things

Mike wakes up over an hour before I do.  He leaves the light off and quietly moves around the room until he is ready to wake me up to say goodbye.  This morning I was mildly aware of him getting dressed on the other side of the room when I felt the cold from the fan on my bare feet.  I sleepily willed the comforter to cover them so I wouldn't have to wake up to do it myself.  Instead I felt Mike's hands around my legs pulling and then tucking the blanket underneath my feet as if he knew what I was thinking.  It's the little things.  I love that man.

And that is a very mushy post.

this is not my bedroom