I am sitting on the couch with a baby asleep in my lap (do we sense a theme here?). Ellen is climbing up onto the table and then peering into the lamp. “Mama, there are a bunch of dead flies and ladybugs in here.”
“Ellen please get down,” I respond automatically. But then, “No, wait. Actually, stay up there.” I reach across the chest in front of the couch for the camera. Fortunetly, it is within arm’s reach.
“Mama, why are you taking a picture of me?”
“Because I like you up there. Because I like you. I like the things you do. I like the things you say.” Did I say those things? I wish I would have.