Fifteen minutes ago:
“G’morning, sweet Ethan.”
“Hi Mom.” (stretch!!!) “I’m not all the way awake yet. What time is it?”
“Almost seven. We need to get up and get you two ready to go to Dad’s for the week.”
He stretched again, held out his hand, and called “High five!”
I’m always a bit bummed when they have to go, but I know they love Dad’s house with the star-ceiling theater, and the hot tub, and their cats, their trees (the ones that weren’t cut down anyway), and the rooms we’d painted in their favorite colors, and well… everything. Most of all I know they love their dad, and I’m not going to take that from them. I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want to leave him hanging. So I gave him an enthusiastic five.
Then after a moment, I volunteered, “Well, I got up and went to the pool for an hour this morning.”
“I know! What did you think the high five was for?”