“Well, eat up, sweetheart, and enjoy. And save some room for the chocolate cake!”

“You made a cake?”

“Yes, I’m blaming it on being pregnant and I want to use that excuse as long as I still can,” she giggled.

We devoured the meal and then Maggie brought in the cake. It was one of those cakes made in a cookie pan, about two inches thick and covered in dark chocolate icing, still warm and oozing with deliciousness.

“I might as well eat everything in sight,” she said. “There’s no more damage that can be done at this point!”

Two pieces of cake and a glass of cold milk later, we both just sat there, trying not to rush things, but we both knew it was getting very close to bedtime.

“Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up and then I want to take a bath,” Maggie said.

“Okay, babe, sounds like a plan. Want some company in that bath?”

“There’s no way we’re both going to fit in that old cast iron tub, Jimmy, at least not now!”

“Well, we have before. Let’s give it a try!”

Maggie laughed and said, “My husband, the eternal optimist!”