Stick a fork in me. I'm done.

It's mid-afternoon and Lila and I are sitting at a table outside Border's. The weather is beautiful; mid-sixties and mostly sunny. Lila is eating her first ever grilled cheese sandwich (on whole wheat) and playing with a plastic fork. I'm sipping on my soda, watching the breeze ruffle my baby's hair and enjoying the peace of the moment.

I lean toward Lila and rest one arm on the table.

"Lila, can I tell you something?"

She turns her attention away from her snack and looks me in the eye, waiting.

"I love you."

Lila leans forward, sandwich in one hand and fork in the other, and gives me a kiss.

She understood what I meant. And, though she doesn't have the words yet to return the sentiment, she told me, without question, that she feels the same way. I lean back in my chair, basking in my child's love, and hope that someone nearby saw what just took place.

One moment like this can make an entire day like Tuesday just disappear.