Dancing in the Kitchen
As I twirled him around in my arms and swayed and bounced, the baby giggled. He had a huge grin on his face and the brightest eyes. My long hair kept falling in front of my face and covering his, making him squint and scrunch his nose and giggle more. This must have been his fourth or fifth bout of giggles ever, being just 3 months old.
Joe marched in front of us with exaggerated elbows and knees going up and down, whistling Yankee Doodle. Our little caramel curly haired dog jumped up and down. It was a picture-perfect moment, all of us dancing in the kitchen together.
I must have had an out-of-body experience where out of the three minutes that we danced there, for one second it all made sense. The movies depict scenes just like this. The movies that I thought had sold me a false romance were actually right. We are just wrong to think the fantasy is a state of being, when it’s really a series of fleeting moments.
You do get to have it all. You just may not have it all forever, or all at once, or all the time. When you do have it all, for just a few breezy moments, say thank you. Say thank you five times over and pray you remember forever.