All I want are simple little things.
All I need is someone beside me to have and to hold, someone to love me as we grow older.
Simple little things, Simple little dreams will do.
"Lizzie, is my blue suit pressed?
Lizzie, kinda' scratch between the shoulder blades.
Lizzie, are the children all in bed?"
That's what he'll say. I'll say, "My husband."
Simple little things.
All I want are simple little things.
All I need is someone beside me to have and to hold, someone to love me as we grow older.
Simple little things, Simple little dreams will do.
While studying French at a local coffee shop, drinking French vanilla chai, one of my favorite pastimes is that of people watching. I wish I had a spy camera to catch them in their conversations, their looks of contemplation. Where are they from? Where are they going? What are their dreams? Of course some of them don't mind chatting on their mobiles and as their vocal decibels increase, communicating with you their superficialities. Who tells their deepest thoughts, passions and priorities loud enough for the person at the table adjacent to them to hear? Unless, perhaps when you are in a spiritual or political conversation.
Why doesn't Starbucks have an almond flavor?
Is Donna Reed really the epitome of the American housewife?
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