It is after lunch and before what would be afterschool if they were in school which they are not because its Spring Break.
Zack is sitting on my lap quietly.
We rock back and forth, silently. He's tired, I'm tired.
No, maybe not tired. Peaceful.
Yes, the two of us both feel calm and peaceful.
The spell is almost broken by loud metallic crash in the other room, and Zoe almost-cursing (Dannngggrrrrrr...UGH!) in a loud whisper to herself.
She doesn't call for either of us.
She doesn't say she's hurt.
I can hear her breathing heavy, like she's lifting or pulling or fixing something challenging.
Zack and I stay quiet, still slowly rocking back and forth, resting in each other's peaceful company.
Then I hear her a loud dial tone come out of the speakerphone in the other room.
So... it sounds like she hurt herself.... trying to dial the phone?
It seems so, Zack answers quickly, then hugs me, as if I even a little bit had entertained getting up and saving Zoe from the horrible dangerous phone.
We laugh together for a minute, then he slides off my lap and slips away to bug his sister, as if inanimate objects weren't enough for her to battle on this lovely day at Camp Mommy.
