Lullaby
Vince is playing upstairs, songs familiar, forty years familiar, yet timeless and with each play exciting and new. Above the calming melodies children are laughing. Mischievous squeals followed by “sshhhes” and “be quiets”. The chandelier in the dining room occasionally rattles, jarred from the playful bouncing upstairs. Baths were skipped fatigue having won out over model parenting. Teeth were brushed. I take solace in that.
Not so very long ago the iced tea I’m enjoying would taste salty and of olives, burning ever so sweetly as I swallowed. I’d have finished two (or three) and be heading to the deck for some fresh air. I’m content this evening to listen to the music and the laughter of children who should be sleeping.
Yeah. I’m OK with that.
