Hands clasped tight

21 October 2015

Ryan and I drove up to Salt Lake after work to meet with our realtor. His office is above one of the former yogurt shops we used to frequent a lot in downtown Sugarhouse. As we walked across the street to his office, I pulled Ryan's hand towards the yogurt shop:

"Wait, look at this sign on the window really quick. Oh my gosh look at that chocolate-topped yogurt!!!"

Ryan tugs my hand.

"Wait, oh look, Ryan!  Inside the window - a sign with all the new flavors!"

Ryan peels me away and then says, "I had to.  Otherwise you would have said,
'Let's go inside to just smell really fast.'
'Let me just give a quick little lick to the yogurt nozzles.'
'Actually, some sample cups please?'
'Nah, a regular bowl.'
'Perhaps, is there a bucket in the back I could use?' "

Laughing hysterically, we keep walking down the sidewalk to our intended office building. 

The unstinting, uncomplicated simplicities of a young marriage.

Upward and onward,

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