We have a few Sunday traditions that we've started since our move to Michigan. My husband heads out to Kroger and picks up the paper, and then to Tim Hortons for Timbits for Icie, a croissant for me, and some sort of pastry for himself (he's the only one who switches it up each week). We eat in the living room. I look at the circulars, Dave reads the paper, and Icie reads the comics until shredding them becomes more fun. The past three out of five Sundays one of us has ended up at the local urgent care for some ailment or another that couldn't possibly wait one more day. Then there's the subsequent trip to Walgreens for antibiotics, today was Dave's turn in the rotation. The rest of the day is full of lazing around, maybe some grocery shopping or a Target run. This morning also included a father-daughter dance, "a little practice for her fifteens" as my husband says. I love Sunday mornings.