Lent Day 27: 7.39pm

I'm sitting on my couch between two jack russels. Somewhere on the other side of the house Stephen is bathing the children. We've started packing bags for our big holiday. 
Eva's art litters the floor and Gray's ghastly crocs are poking out from under the couch. 
Gray arrives on the scene, fresh from his bath, refusing to put a tshirt on. Stephen follows him.

Gray just read the sentence about his crocs and is offended. Stephen suggests 'betrayed' as an apt description. Then he monologues about Gray's love for long socks. Gray agrees, with his arms slung over Stephen's shoulder. 
There's another long conversation about socks. Stephen calls Gray a half wit. 
Gray wrestles Stephen, inciting the dogs who then jump onto my stomach to get to the action. Eva shouts for Stephen from the bath and they all disappear again leaving me alone.
The dogs settle back in their vigil on either side of me.

One takes moments of domesticity for granted. The normal everyday tick of how we live our lives with the people we love. If all goes according to plan these children that we love will one day leave our home. And then all I'll be left with is blogs like these. 

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