Friday, February 15, 2013

Quiet Time

It's quiet time.  Quiet time is mine, one hour that I can do whatever I want and not have to worry about what the children are doing.

I could catch up on a show.  I could fold one of the 37 loads of laundry waiting to be folded.  I could waste time on the internet.  Usually I am doing one or more of these things.

But not today.  Today I am listening.  I am straining my ears for the sounds the children are making.

They are each behind closed doors, wrapped up in their own little world.  Bunny is playing with her dogs, Lion his superheros.  Their play is imaginative.  They tell stories.  They make up voices.

I drink up the sounds they are making.  I store away the way the stories are told.  Their voices open up the beauty of their worlds.

I move closer to their closed doors.  I don't want them to know I am listening.  Bunny is likely to shut down if she heard me.  This is hers, not mine.  Lion is the opposite.  He craves an audience.  He would fling open the door and demand my presence.  His becomes ours.

I do not stay long.  I cannot.  It is theirs, I must be contented with the glimpse I have stolen.

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