faint edges

The boys ended up home from school for five days, long enough for doing nothing to feel like an actual activity. They passed around a nasty but short-lived virus, yet remained mostly busy and mostly happy, switching sleeping arrangements, participating in a baseball clinic and playing in the snow once the temperature rose a bit. They watched several movies and part of the SuperBowl, baked Oreo truffles and bourbon cake, built a Lego marble run and readied letters to brighten a few mail boxes. They helped with chores and badgered Siri and embarked on epic laundry basket fishing expeditions. They also read approximately eighty seven books to Hank, and I let myself believe that I could see the faint edges of future friendships.