This is the most pure love of the day. It’s not always pretty, but it’s beautiful. Waking up slowly in a little pile of smelly human love. My perfectly insane, small humans.
Permanent damage to my vertebrae is a small price to pay for waking up with these two midnight marauders. I go to sleep alone and wake up as the sugary goodness in an offspring Oreo.
Everyone’s breath is awful, someone’s always farting, and inevitably, there’s a short commentary about morning wood. We giggle and snuggle and talk about nonsense. It’s before the day’s frustrations have set in and we’re all still hazy with the soft happiness of sleep.
I never want to stop waking up with them. I never want these tiny moments of raw togetherness with them to end.
They are what tethers me to the planet most days and I don’t want them to grow another minute older.
I want to freeze the three of us in this stinky pile of love so the only thing that continues to move and grow is my perfectly content heart.