There’s nothing that makes me happy quite like _________
In my case: A Full jar of Mayo. No scraping the bottom for the last little bit, no getting mayo on my knuckles. It’s not important, but it makes me happy.
What makes YOU happy, in an insignificant way?
There’s nothing that makes me happy quite like new socks.
…a full jar of Nutella.
…a stack of chocolate chip cookies.
A brand-spanking-new, nobody’s-touched-it-yet roll of Pillsbury Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. Chop off the end, take off the plastic, microwave for 45 seconds. Heaven.
'Course, I live alone, so if somebody got to it before I did, it’s time to change the locks.
Being the first one to dip a knife into new peanut butter. My son loves this, too. When he was young, we used to taunt each other by forcing the other one to watch the knife being slipped into the new pool of peanut buttery goodness.
Freshly washed and line-dried linen on the bed. Oh, and waking up early on a Saturday morning, thinking “Dammit, got to go to work, and then that wonderful realisation: ‘No I don’t - it’s SATURDAY!!’” 
I love that feeling.
NB: I don’t spend my entire life in bed…
Bacon. The mere smell of bacon cooking and then the eating of the bacon…mmmmmmmmm.
The first page of a book you have been dying to read.
Rain on the roof when it is cold and you are snuggled up in bed.
Oh and a fairly recent adition to that list, roasted garlic hummus. No crackers or pita bread or anything. Just the hummus and a spoon
OMG, flashbacks to childhood! My mom and I used to have a kind of “contest” to see who could sully the plastic-y top layer of peanut butter first! At one point, I made sure I was the one to carry in the grocery bag that contained the peanut butter, so I would get it first. The following time she bought peanut butter, I tried the same thing, but when I took the lid off the jar, mom had written (with what tool, I dunno) “Gotcha!” For all of her faults, my mom did have a sense of humor!
As for the OP, I was just thinking about something about an hour ago. When I have some freshly cooked bacon, and a fresh cup of coffee, and I take a bite of bacon, and the taste is still in my mouth when I sip my coffee. . .a little bit of heaven, right there on my tongue!
A new pair of strings on my guitar…they just feel so delicious and playable, and the tone is just to die for…
Also those rare times when every light just seems to change from red to green just before you start to slow down, and every time you get ready to turn there’s no opposing traffic. I love that.
-P
A fancy new pen with a pristine nib and non-smeary ink. So full of promise… until I lose it or launder it.
Another vote for freshly washed bed linens. I love burying my face in the sheet and inhaling the aroma of fabric softener.
Moving my feet under the sheets to find the cool spot in the bed.
Taking a drink of iced water right after I brush my teeth.
The first whiff of freshly ground coffee.
Slipping my feet into a brand new pair of Birkenstocks.
All these moments are what true bliss is.
The last page of a book you’ve been dying to find out the ending of.
A pot of nice, hot tea.
Twinnings Irish Breakfast, for choice.
With oodles of sugar, no lemon or creme.
Part of my commute home takes place on a windy road at the top of a chain of hills. Every once in a while, I hit a stretch (maybe a mile, maybe more) where there is no one in front of me to slow me down and no one behind me, riding my ass. I can go at exactly the speed that feels best in my car, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS!!!
A remembered dream.
…an old song on the radio that brings back feelings of nostalgia.
…a smile from a stranger.
…the strecth that happens first thing in the morning in bed, usually involving stretching the legs and calves.
…waking up to the sounds of birds, and no other sounds, especially when it is early morning and the light has that unreal quality to it.
…waking up to the sound of light pattering of raindrops, better in the early morning.
…thunderstorms.
Waking up in the dead of the night; wandering through the silent house, knowing that everyone I love is safe, secure, and peaceful under our roof; then snuggling up against my wife again, knowing I have several more hours to sleep.
. . . oh, yeah, and flipping over my pillow to the “cool side” just before drifting off – that’s good, too. . .
the smell of a new book
a glass of really good wine
a chocolate covered, liqueur filled cherry (from a very specific shop)
sitting in front of a fire while it storms outside
all four together=a perfect afternoon
Or ice cream.
Or write your initials or a message in the smootheness.
I really need to sneak a message into our next jar of peanut butter. Exactly what my hub wouldn’t expect.
As for me … it might be a jar of pickle juice, all to myself.
Post that isn’t bills.
A new book by and old friend.
A fresh t-shirt on a muggy day.