I was sauteing onions. The radio was on, but static-y. Baby Peter was rocking out, kicking away in the bouncy seat. Clare was in her tutu, doing her favorite thing: dancing to the electronic stylings of Fisher Price. Dancing, at it's best, means spinning in endless circles until she's too dizzy to stand, then laughing until she can stand up and dance some more.
There were were, the three of us crammed into our little kitchen, laughing, dancing, cooking, kicking. And in that moment, there was joy.
|Goofy tutu pic from a couple of days ago.|