I could tell from the darkness that morning that it was still raining, and after weeks with no rain, I was glad for the dim light. I smelled the coffee brewing and listened to the quiet house. I knew The Man had gone downstairs…probably working on his fantasy football team.
It was Henry that was next to me. He smelled of shampoo and soap. His cheeks were pink from a beautiful day spent outside yesterday. He sniffled. I hoped it wasn’t the start of a cold.
I listened to him. To the sound of him breathing…sniffling…rustling the blankets. I reached over and toussled his hair and he, not quite asleep, opened his eyes and smiled.
When you least expect it, it creeps in. It comes disguised as a soapy-scented, pink-cheeked little boy and warm blankets on a rainy Sunday morning. Joy resides in these small moments. Those that may seem the most ordinary are the ones in which beauty is bound.
P.S. It was a cold. He is home sick today. After only 4 days of school, that boy has a cold. Seriously?