He sneaks up on me every morning. I can hear his tiptoe steps down the hall and through the kitchen. I pretend not to notice him at all. This is our morning game. He runs quickly through the kitchen and past the entryway to the office, where I’m at my computer killing it at my life online while the rest of my house sleeps.
He squeaks and scuttles. And I transition into a game of cat and mouse with him before he jumps in my lap. His hair is disheveled and his bright blue eyes still have a little sleep in them.
We build a blanket fort together for movie morning. We are resting and nesting. The only goals are to love each other well.
They play light sabers.
I serve pizza on paper plates for dinner.
They don’t notice the pile of laundry, the crumb filled floor begging to be mopped, or my to do list that is mile long.
They only notice us- two parents who are working hard to be fully engaged and present in the moment with them.
Parents who once dreamed of days like these when they first met over ten years ago.
This post was written for Five Minute Friday. Each week, writers from all over the world write on a single prompt for five minutes and hit publish without worrying about edits. If you’re seeing this, you’re invited to play along. This week’s prompt is Notice. Head to Katie’s blog to read what others are saying about this word or to link up your own writing.