There was a little magic in the six o’clock hour last night. Nothing extraordinary or out of the norm. Just a little special time.
We had dinner early with Pat before he had to leave to give lessons. One of our favorite comfort meals: pancakes, bacon, and eggs. After Pat left Savannah, Sarah, and gathered on my bed with our various books and read quietly with an occasional check-in.
“How are you?”
“How’s that book?”
Or Sarah’s, “Hi,” said in a whisper with a bright smile peeking over the edge of the page.
Then Sarah bounced over next to me with the book "Where the Wild Things Are" and I read it aloud with all of us growling, roaring, and gnashing our teeth. A quiet moment turned into a let-it-all-out, crazy time. We fell into a heap laughing and then Sarah brought over the next book, "Ten Kisses Good Night." Lots of sugar was passed around.
Then seven o’clock hit and we all jumped off the bed and ran to the TV. “Dancing with the Stars” was coming on. There were Waltzes to watch and Salsas to imitate. The fun continued, but there was something about those magical moments together on the bed. It’s the little things we share that unexpectedly turn into the most cherished of times.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go break up a fight between my daughters.