I am washing dishes
baby beside me,
splashing.
A little blonde blur
and her brother
chasing around the room.
He is pouring over problems
with our oldest,
she of the long, curly hair
and inquisitive blue eyes.
There are paint brushes
in the kitchen sink
and stains
on the baby’s pajamas
and yet he doesn’t bat an eye,
there is no disapproving glance.
That man of mine
he loves me so.
Days so very full
shuffling
scurrying
laughing
sweeping
mending
tending
trying
crying.
But the evenings?
Oh, sweet evening!
Moods shift
tempers slow
lights dim.
A deep breath.
A fresh eternity
just for us.
I tuck the curly headed wonders
snug into their beds
and return to the kitchen
to find him finishing up the dishes.
He takes me in his arms
and we dance
around the kitchen floor,
a dishtowel
and my head
on his shoulder.
Over and over.
Around and around.
Night after night.
Love songs on repeat.
