Last Night...

I snuck down the hallway to check on Fin one last time before turning in myself.

I found her sleeping soundly in the soft glow of her Twilight Turtle stars. The only sound was her quiet, even breathing and the low hum of the fan in her room.

I smoothed her hair back off of her sweet face, straightened her covers, whispered "I love you" and started to tiptoe out of her room.

That's when she hollered, "I LOVE YOU, TOO!" in a booming voice and I almost peed my pants.

"You shouldn't wrestle with your poop. You hafta just... reeeelaaaax ...and let it go."

Wise beyond her years.

"Hey, Mom! Wouldn't it be fabulous to see a real live unicorn jumping over a rainbow the same way a real live cow jumps over the moon?"

Fin was watching me open a new box of OTC sinus medication.  I popped the two giant gel-caps out of the blister-pack into my palm and her eyes grew big as plates.

"Mom!  Do you hafta stick those up your bum?!"

Guess whose kid was recently traumatized by her first anti-nausea suppository experience?

"Mom, you make me happy all the time. And your tattoos? Are wonderful."

"Mom, is the craziness over yet?"

I certainly hope so, my sweet girl.

I am taking an important phone call when I have to ask Fin to "please stop bouncing those balls" (our house is very echoey and sound resonates loudly on these old wood floors).

"FINE. Then we'll just go in the other room! C'mon, Twoballs!"

A sign that life does, indeed, go on? Having to stifle laughter at your child while you're on the phone with the funeral home.