It’s been raining a lot here. This week saw many sharp tones and quick critiques in our house, with me as a chief contributor rather than an aid. A few nights, getting to bedtime felt like what I imagine army crawling through quicksand–while being swarmed by biting flies–is like.
We thought about cancelled our Friday Family Fette Sau Outing in favor of hibernating in our basement with a movie. But then we didn’t. On the walk over, we played “Hot Seat” taking took turns telling whoever was in the hot seat what we appreciate about them. Hudson told Laurel, “I appreciate how creative you are at pretending and playing ‘Baby.’ You’re really good at it.”
“Hudson!” Laurel exclaimed with a huge grin, “Dat’s the nicest thing eva!!”
When it was my turn, Laurel said, “Mom, I weely appeasee-ate dat you love Daddy and take care of me and dat you are my mommy.”
Yep. That really happened. Later on, over our $5 Old Fashions, smoked brisket, baked mac and cheese, Go Fish game, and coloring books (because, yes, we settle deep into our restaurant table), we turned the game into asking each other questions. Among them, Avery asked Andy, “Daddy, what’s your favorite color?”
“The color of Mommy’s eyes,” slid smoothly off his lips.
Clever man.
On the way home, Avery held my hand and Hudson walked beside me, running the umbrella along the chain-link fences. I admired the silhouette of Laurel snug against Andy’s shoulder. The wet asphalt nuanced the traffic’s rumble. And the puddles magnified the city lights into a new kind of brilliance.
this riven bloom 