In the Snowy Afternoon

Today I set my Erin downwards for a nap. And I napped too.

We kickoff read "That's Not My Prince" too and thus I tickled her face, an human activeness passed downwards from my Nana, nosotros telephone vociferation upward "chicky." It's a slumber inducement.

It was snowing--fat flakes cruel correct inward a higher identify our window. We cuddled nether a frog-faced fleece too her trivial quilt she calls "Bumpy."

We had garlic noodles for lunch, too hot chocolate fleck cookies too nosotros set together wooden puzzles almost pets too the ABCs until the clock struck one. Quiet Time.

The identify was clean, the kitchen flooring was wiped, the pillows on the couch were fluffed, the spilled bowl of goldfish crackers was finger-raked from the wild carpet.

And only earlier I cruel asleep to the audio of my infant breathing heavy, rosy cheeked, drool spilling out from her sweet, pursed oral fissure wetting her turquoise pillow, I wondered how this became my life.

And how on public (and nether heaven) could it larn whatever better?




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