By no means do I have the perfect marriage (mostly because I am one half of that equation). But I am married to the perfect partner, one who reminds me that it’s the little things that matter most. A couple Sundays ago before I had woken up—and after a particularly stressful week—my husband brewed a pot of Intelligentsia Tanzania Edewlweiss coffee and brought me a copy of the New York Times in bed. He then offered to take our two-year-old son to the Santa Monica Airport observation deck for a couple hours to watch the planes take off and land so I could have a quiet morning to myself. If I think about it, it has probably been, well, over two and a half years since I’ve enjoyed a Sunday morning that way. It was a wildly grand gesture—one that cost nothing and one that reminded me how lucky I am.