Last Friday morning it was very quiet and still.
Too quiet and still.
“Gemma?” I called. “Where’d you go?”
In an effort to annoy the ever-lovin’ life out of Tess, when she was herself stealing pacis, Max began to hoard all of the pacifiers. He would scour the girls’ room for them and squirrel them away and what began as an obnoxious habit became a blessing because suddenly we knew where to find the pacis. Glory be, who knew it could be that simple?!
Friday morning –
I called for Gemma and headed to her usual spots – our room for the Ipad, their room with my phone, the bathroom for anything that can be squeezed, sprayed or splashed. But she was not there. Second string places came to mind and I peeped into the boys’ room. Sometimes she likes to dig into their candy or Slim Jim stash. This particular morning, though, I glanced in and saw just the tips of her knees above the guard rail and heard . . . purring.
“Gemma? Whatcha doing?”
She froze and there was a pause.
“Mama! Look! I find all the pacis!”
Best day ever in her book. She counted them. She caressed them. She stacked and sampled and sorted them. She was in heaven and it was pure bliss.
It was a beautiful reminder to enjoy the little things. And to give her brother a raise.