The three-year-old who wants a ganilla (granola) bar, and as she eats it, occasionally walks over to silently spit the almonds into my hand.
The now-cold coffee, abandoned after chasing around the three-year-old who is spraying water into the air with glee.
The mail, the coupons, the unread newspaper. The unwashed clothes. The dogs whose nails need to be trimmed. The sweet crowing of a bird out back.
These moments that are so ordinary. You can almost miss them. Sometimes I am bored in them, sometimes I want to hurry them.
Today, I am choosing to sit with my cold coffee and smile.