Last week was rough. If you follow me on Instagram, then you probably already know that my Grandmother died. She passed away at ninety-six on Monday morning after battling cancer for almost two years. Cheech and I flew out to LA first thing on Tuesday to be with our family. Between that and both of us dealing with chronic coughs from leftover colds that were leaving us sleep deprived, plus the fact that it's somehow still in the 80s in that God-forgotten city in late October, I spent most of my time there in a shit mood.
By Thursday night, I felt like I was falling apart. I took some NyQuil and then cuddled next to Cheech as I read her a bedtime story. Before turning out the lights, I leaned in as close as I could to her.
Me: You know what?
Me: I love you SO much,
Cheech: I love you SO nuts, too, mama.
I broke out into roaring laughter, and for that moment, everything was 100% better.