Jazzy on the Couch

Sunday morning and I just finished my second cup of coffee.  Not a hurry in my whole entire world.  Jazzy’s still asleep and I’m sitting outside, checking in with the day, so as to not disturb her.

We were laying down on the couch together last night, legs intertwined so we’d both fit.  Her head on one side of the couch, mine on the other.  We were half way through our second episode of a sitcom we’ve been watching on Netflix together.  It was 1am and the thought went through my head – again – that she’s not just my daughter, my beautiful little girl – she’s one of my dearest friends.

There’s so much subtlety to our relationship.  Perhaps a photograph of us on that couch together would be a perfect summation of our dealio.  Our body language would say it all.

I still haven’t cleaned the apartment from Friday’s get together.  I had people over for a table read of my Boardwalk Empire script.  Jazzy cooked chicken nuggets.  It was a good time.  Drinks, food, and great company.  Not sure if I learned much about my script from hearing it out loud, but that wasn’t really the point.  Reading through it together was a great Friday night type of activity.

Jazzy cooked.  I have to clean.  That’s our deal.  I’m thinking I’ll get to that before we head out for the day.

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