As I was driving home from work today, I suddenly felt the urge to celebrate.
It is Fat Tuesday, after all. I wanted to fill my evening with the simple pleasures of life: good friends, good food — and perhaps a gooey, decadent dessert.
“Out to eat! Out to eat!” I chanted when Matt answered the phone. And an hour later, we were gathered around a table with our toddler, our 4 month old, our dear friends, Brian and Beth, and their 7 month old (and one on the way!) If you weren’t counting, that’s four babies (one in Beth’s belly, of course) and four hungry adults.
We ate salty chips and shared random stories. We played pass-the-baby and entertain-the-toddler (oops, just realized I forgot to tell our waitress that Mr. Toddler was sucking on the salt shaker). We finished the evening with a hot, chocolate chip cookie, topped with ice cream.
And at the end of the night I felt so… full.
Not just in the sense of enjoying a big meal, but in the sense of enjoying a big life. A life that’s full of blessings I never knew I needed. A table that’s full of friends who have shared a history. And a pick-up truck full of our family driving home — a little girl asleep in her car seat, a little boy squirming and fussy, and a sweet husband patiently repeating, “We’re almost home, buddy.”
So on this traditional night of indulgence, I am full of love. And that is worth celebrating.