Campfire night.

Do you ever have moments when you look around and think to yourself … wow, this is … nice.

I will be the first to admit that I stress out about dumb crap wayyyyy too much. I end up upsetting myself over the most trivial of details trying to make tomorrow perfect, and sometimes miss the *good* things that are happening right NOW.

Wednesday night though? Wednesday night was amazing. Wednesday night was a campfire night.

I have no idea why the stars all aligned on that particular evening, but they did. I was sitting in our dining room area, feeding the baby some purees, and I looked up and smiled.

The house was clean. The Fall/Halloween decorations were nice. My husband had things cooking in the kitchen. The backdoor was open to cool, crisp, Autumn air. There was a hint of charcoal grill smoke wafting in, promising hamburgers and hotdogs. The first World Series game was starting. The Mouse was playing out back, talking to his new favorite stuffed animal. Did I mention the house was clean?

I looked at the baby (who smiled and dribbled peaches out of his mouth) and smiled. All of sudden, my husband walks in the backdoor and says:

“What is it about cooler weather and a backyard grill that makes everything feel so RIGHT?”

I swear to God, he walked in and said that, right as I was thinking it. I knew I married this dude for a reason.

“This is camping weather,” I said. “The only thing missing is a tent and s’mores over a campfire.”

“Next year we’ll take the boys,” he said.

Nights and conversations like these make me inherently happy.