Bean and I just awoke from a nap. I’m still recovering from being sick so I gratefully accepted the opportunity to nap this morning. He’s so funny when he wakes. His eyes open, and then boing! he’s up, his body still rocking with the velocity of his sudden movement.
His eyes are always wide. His cheeks flushed with the roses of sleep. Then a grin spreads out to the corners of his face and he clambers over my body to look out the window. He drags his monkey with him, and then starts playing the peek-a-boo game I showed him: where we put the monkey’s paw over his eyes and then Bean removes it and I say “PEEK-A-BOO†and then I make the monkey dance. Bean giggles then, and starts dancing too, his little bootie bopping about amongst the pillows.
I love our moments together in bed, still drenched with sleep. While he tumbles about, I sift through my blurry sleep-scented thoughts, gathering the fragments of my dreams like a beachcomber picking shells. It is time where everything is present: before the lists crowd in, before I am scattered back over the surface of the day.