Day 27 Tonight has been one of those not-so-special evenings that I know I will look back on and miss deeply.
I made dinner - like homemade everything (a rarity) - and Greta pulled up a chair to the counter and asked to help over and over and over while I responded, "Not yet, Greta, the stove top is too hot." We pushed all the arts and crafts to one end of a messy table giving us just enough room for our dinner plates; I ate over half my meal with Greta on my lap while she begged to be excused so she could go outside and play with the kitties who were staring at us from the window. "Just one more bite, Greta." The two of us together are such broken records.
I unloaded the dishwasher while Matt cleaned up from dinner and the big kids played football out back and Greta walked around with a kitty dangling from her forearm.
Darkness brought them all in and we shared cobbler from the same plate and I made a cup of coffee. Matt hung pictures on the wall and the kids played make-believe and there were many tears and bossing each other around and so many I'm sorrys, but it was all okay because we were together just living life.
Nothing special. Far from perfect. Forever precious.