Beautiful

My friends are beautiful. The most recent time I had this realization was at approximately 8:42 this morning.

After arriving at V's house last night (we were making up for lost time--had been apart the whole week and weekend!), sharing a scrumptious V-original dinner, and chit-chatting until bedtime for the kids and ourselves, I went to sleep very content. In the morning, amongst the whirlwind process of prepping the boys for preschool and elementary school, I found it equally enjoyable to tag along and be part of their family for a little bit longer.
After we dropped off the two boys, V and I walked leisurely towards the Subte to get downtown; she to work, I to my apartment. We walked arm in arm to the panaderia (bakery), and bought ourselves some incredible facturas (sweeeeeeet breads) for breakfast, regardless of the astounding calorie count they most definitely contained. The crunchy, flaky outside; the softer, dulce-de-leche moistened interior...nothing like it. Nothing like it.
Off in search of chocolate milk, we enjoyed our facturas ("like Ratatouille" she says, the movie in which the character Ratatouille enjoys every bite as he savors it and sees fireworks). Arm in arm again, singing worship songs in the glory of this sunny, not-too-hot morning with facturas and the gorgeous company of a really good friend.

That's beautiful.