Yesterday was good.

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.

But yesterday?
Something about  yesterday was good. 

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The boys and I climbed into my bed when the sun was still out…
They gathered books, and toys, and iPhones.  
We stayed there until after it was dark and no one even noticed that the moon was out, that the kids across the street had long been quiet…

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…

One Comment

  1. Whoa. What a good question- “how many days have I ended before they were done?” In my case, far too many, I’m sure.

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