Yesterday, as we ran errands at the craft and bookstores, Bud became enamored of cars. Not in a make-and-year kind of way, but because of the license plates. He noticed, for the first time, that every car has numbers and letters on it. And so he stopped at each one and read them outloud to me.
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Sis desperately wanted the eraser-marker book that Bud was working in the other day. So she approached him temptingly, "Bud, I know you love letters," proffering her ABC book at him.
"I love you too," he said, "but I'm going to do my Connect-the-Dots."
Good try, Sis.
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The other night during tuck-in, after singing our goodnight song about different kinds of families, Sis asked me, "What makes us a family?"
Oh, bedtime profundity (I used to do it in the car, I'm told).
And so we whispered our ideas: love, living in the same house, reading stories together, having lunch together, playing together, baking cookies together, going to church together, happy thoughts, the family song, "beep-beep" goodbyes.
Mama chimed it that we actually didn't have to be together, that even when she's at work, and I'm at exercise, and the kids are at school--even at different tables for snack--we're still a family because we love each other. Always.
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