come gasp with me

Mom, look! Watch me do a flip! Watch me write my whole name!

Hank gathers my scattered attention and points me toward his own delight, like it's some sort of sacrilege not to share.

See the cats play, see the snowflakes, see the new neighbors across the street?

He summons the rest of the house as if it'd be negligent not to invite us all to love the world with him.

The boys are, have always been, a bulwark against bad days, contagious in their joy.

I appreciate the recent side-tracks, something else to do *instead* of panic.

Smell this soap, taste the chocolate buttercream, feel my new wool socks.

A million little pleasures.

Listen to me tell this joke, listen to me sing, listen to me count to one hundred. 

Help me make a list.