When I pick her up from school, I am usually alone. Dave works from home, and Ben is peacefully napping.
She runs from her place on the carpet to my arms, eager to hug and kiss me, and tell me about her day. "Today was a star day," she says, showing me the sticker on her hand. "I was a good listener!" She's so proud of the star, sticking there, she strokes it as we walk along.
Some days, if it's sunny and warm, we stop for an ice cream from the ice cream lady. She gets a strawberry cone, and we keep walking. It's only 8 blocks from school back to the apartment, but she holds my hand the whole way.
Sometimes she's quiet, tired from a busy day of learning and playing, but usually she's her dreamy self. Telling me stories or singing songs she's invented in her head. "What if we were a shark family, mommy? What if you were the Mommy Shark, and I was the Girl Shark? We could be nice sharks, who don't hurt you when they bite! We could be salami sandwich sharks! Om Om OM!"
She giggles and squeezes my hand a little tighter, and we walk on home in the afternoon sun.
That is so wonderful. I love how creative she is.
This, and the one before are so sweet, I long to be there with you, if it wouldn't change the moment, which, of course it would. It makes me indescribably happy.