On a cold concrete floor speckled and square tiled.
Huddled with my legs kaddy cornered so others could maneuver their ways around us.
To my left a little fox. Bigger than he thinks. New haircut. Toenails that need to be cut. He fit perfectly in the crook of my folded legs. And I felt him. I felt him nestle his 2 fingers around my belt loop to hold on.
To my right a long tall lad. Pressed in against my side, he insisted we do this. Where I can't decide if he has grown more in height or depth of knowledge; it's tough to say. Intuitive. He is. Beyond his years, I know him more and more each day.
On the floor.
In an aisle way.
With a buggy full. Overflowing with groceries strict in temperature specifications and with a list only half checked in completion.
And I read.
I read to them. My boys.
They asked and I obliged. Books not bought only borrowed from a shelf.
2 to be exact. A book that each boy had selected.
In a sea of toys and gizzmos and gadgets, my boys picked books.
And they wanted their mama to read to them.
And at 12:56 PM on Wednesday, October 7th, I couldn't think of a better thing to do than this.
So, I sat.
I read with gusto and animation from deep within. Savoring each tug of my belt loop and each nestle into my side.
I read knowing that now was my time.
My time to give. My time to be exactly what they wanted me to be.
And so groceries thaw.
And checklists wait.
Because at 12:56 this afternoon, I was mama.
And I loved every single second of it.
On the floor.
In the sideways of an aisle.
Kaddy cornered and filled.
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