I hesitate to even say that out loud, because I don’t ever really get to the end of the day and declare the day a good one or a bad… they’re all just-days these days.
They happen. The hours tick on, and eventually they end. As long as the end comes, I sigh with relief and eventually crawl into bed, already thinking about the end of the next one.
Something about yesterday was good.
They gathered books, and toys, and iPhones.
The day had ended unnoticed.
We lingered there for longer, and sleepy boys eventually got tucked into their own beds.
We read one more book.
And I stood there, in their doorway, wondering how many days I’ve ended before they were done…