Children that do not go to bed when they are supposed to are one of my pet peeves. Sometimes it makes me so frustrated I could swear. Sometimes it makes me so frustrated that I actually swear.
Tonight was different. When I picked up my screaming baby and she looked at me with her big eyes, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.
We walked outside in the evening quiet, up one side of the street and then down the other. The stillness was like my favorite Wordsworth sonnet: "It is a beauteous evening, calm and free / The holy time is quiet as a Nun / Breathless with adoration." I stood on the front lawn, watching the pencil-line of moon brighten until I felt Miss Meatball's tightfisted grip on my t-shirt loosen. She was asleep.
Crescent Moon & Treetop by CmdrGravy