Lucky

Muffin pats the seat next to her. “Mommy.” She turns to the other side. “Daddy.” She loves nothing more than to be the meat in our sandwich. We give her a bath, the Canuck sitting on the toilet, me perched on Muffin’s step stool, our knees knocking against each other in our tiny bathroom. So often we tag team it but tonight we are ignoring dinner prep and doing it together. After a week and a half of almost non-stop travel, it is heaven to have him home. Muffin’s mouth forms a devilish O as bubbles flutter out of her bum. “Oh, it’s a Jacuzzi bath, is it?” laughs the Canuck. I can’t stop laughing either, and then Muffin starts giggling at us, and we crack up even harder at her. There’s a tiny bit of magic that happens when we are together, my dear family and me, if only I take a moment to notice.