Covered in glitter and crumbs. Waking up to maracas and fairy wings. Pockets full of rubber bands and dandelions. Buried under book piles. Dirty hands with homemade kombucha. Coffee in the rain. Waiting for that sacred scrap of silence.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
where mama works
Chris: You know where I work. Unity: Yes. Chris: and where does Mama work? Unity: Nowhere. Chris: Are you kidding me?! Mama works hard taking care of you guys and this house every single day all day long.