I'm glad I was wrong

I wanted to stay in my pajamas and read my book on the couch.

"No," The Mister declared, "you are coming with me and it will be worth it."

And he led me down into the city, through the trees and past the chestnut-roasting stand. We crossed the street in front of the horse-drawn carriages that the tourists inexplicably adore and arrived at a fancy hotel. We went up the elevator, all the way to the rooftop, and walked out and breathed in. There it was, there it all was, the sunset and the city and the sea and the cathedral all in one dusk-colored panorama.

He was right. It was worth it.