Here’s to more and more years of the best breakfasts in beds, of quiet and slow mornings filled with laughter and silly games and scaring each other behind doors, of our favourite lunchtime feasts and of walking hand-in-hand through leafy parks, of throwing open windows in search of the elusive breeze and of revelling in that satisfying humidity of our to-be home. Here’s to all of those waiting-in-the-wings years that couldn’t have nearly prepared us for these mornings and afternoons that turn into days and nights of feeling oh so content, of feeling like the sunshine will never end and of feeling entire safaris of animals; forget the butterflies.

Here’s to you and I.

Here’s to more and more years of the best breakfasts in beds, of quiet and slow mornings filled with laughter and silly games and scaring each other behind doors, of our favourite lunchtime feasts and of walking hand-in-hand through leafy parks, of throwing open windows in search of the elusive breeze and of revelling in that satisfying humidity of our to-be home. Here’s to all of those waiting-in-the-wings years that couldn’t have nearly prepared us for these mornings and afternoons that turn into days and nights of feeling oh so content, of feeling like the sunshine will never end and of feeling entire safaris of animals; forget the butterflies.

Here’s to you and I.

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