spending the day

Are you hearing that sound? he asks, excitement filling his voice. That's mine brothers home! 
Except it's only nine in the morning.
He follows a loose daily routine, one both time-consuming and challenging, but full of wonder and joy. His schedule includes certain basic tasks - drinking milk, testing the bedsprings, flailing madly on the floor and tinkling gently on the piano, climbing in and out of the stroller for practice, begging to watch Peppa Pig, dumping laundry baskets upside down. He scales the counter stools at least eight times a day, asking for something to eat - double eggs, peeny and jelly, cheese and grapes. He spends long stretches of time poring over a seemingly endless array of stickers, books, paper that he tears apart piece by piece. Together we paint with water colors, bat around a balloon with spoons, stack elephant blocks, race matchbox cars. And together we wait for for the school bell to ring, for the boys to come home.

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