I’m on e’s mat, waiting for him to finish his nighttime toy check before he crawls in beside me. He goes through his blocks and his string, pauses at the spoon he so dearly loves, peeks at the crack in the door, walks along the nightstand and the bed, dismounts and crawls toward the mattress. He sits next to me, singing and bouncing, getting out that last bit of pent-up energy before he lays down his sweet head. Just at that moment, boom bursts through the door, shoving it aside, and clambers atop the armchair sitting right next to e’s mat. She stares down, he stares up, and they converse.
Such precious dears, this boom and this bean.