but then there are these moments

Early this evening, long about supper time, a storm rolled in, pouring down water on our already drenched and overgrown lawn; pushing the edges of our lazy creek to frothing, white swirls. The cat and the girls alike were drawn to the windows to watch the downpour.

I saw the sister eye-lock. One said, "Do you want to?" The other nodded. They turned to me and said, "Can we go play in the rain?"

Play. They wanted to play.

And play they did.

Chasing around the house. Rivulets running past their grins as wet ponytails stuck to the back of their necks. Laughing. Shouting. Neighborhood friends joining in. Ducking around trees and drowned flowerbeds, kicking up waves of creek water at each other.

Eventually spilling into the house, dripping and happy and winded. Snarfing down pizza and settling into the couches for movie night.

As I write this, they are having a sister (and Sara--a dear old trusted friend of Eldest; Sara, the anti-drama) slumber party.

I'll sleep well tonight.