As I load the pressure cooker with the dhal and rice, the sparkling counter-top surprises me. As I open the anjalai petti (seasoning rack) to season my boiling sambar, the shine glinting off the vessel catches me smiling. The steaming dishwasher blinking “I am ready” opens to reveal rows after rows of neatly stacked impossibly clean vessels. The plate with nicely shredded cabbage greets my eyes when I am ready to make the vegetable. The coriander is washed, trimmed and minced when I am ready to garnish.  The sink gets cleared, the center table arranged, the book shelves dusted and the microwave gleams.

Sometimes I really wonder if I have a pixie hiding somewhere in the depths of my kitchen cabinetry. Only that when I am sober I know my pixie goes by the name of K and there is nothing elfish about him.

Moments like these make me incredibly thankful for the man in my life. One who truly believes in sharing and sharing alike. One who truly believes in equality of the sexes. One who believes in treating me with respect. One for whom I must have accumulated lifetimes of good karma.

So, today when I am mellow and ready to say it aloud. Thank you K. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you and I am so glad you are the one I will wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.