I wasn't going to write tonight.
But I sometimes eavesdrop and I had to get this on paper. For them. For when they are older, and for when they've forgotten they were once best friends.
I let my daughter have a sleepover in my son's room tonight, knowing they would love the change-up, and knowing it was okay if everyone got to sleep a little later than usual from chatting.
Right before I left the room, I could hear that it had started to rain, and I cracked their window so that they could smell and listen to the rain while they fell asleep.
But long after I had tucked them in and headed downstairs, I heard singing. So I crept up the steps and sat next to the bedroom door. My son was just finishing a chorus of Black Jack Baby, the song I've sung him for years now. And then the most precious conversation ensued:
him: When you're all grown up, where are you gonna live? Tell me a location and a state. Like...the beach, or the countryside....
her: (after a thoughtful pause) Either Hawaii at the beach, or California at the beach.
him: Well, I'd choose California, but not Hawaii because of the volcanoes.
her: There aren't any volcanoes in Hawaii.
him: Yes there are.
her: Well they're not erupted. That was thousands of years ago and they can't erupt again.
him: (long pause) I like it when you're in here with me. (another long pause) You make me feel comfortable.
her: (thoughtful) Comfortable.
him: Yeah, when you're around me. (long pause) I'm going to start sleeping now, okay?
her: Me too. (long pause, and sleepily) The pitter-patter is like a lullaby.
I want them to stay exactly this way forever and ever. And I know they won't, which I why I had to write it. Just a bit of stopped time right here, on this screen.
That's all I really wanted to say.
Good night, friends.