I’m sitting here, it’s nine PM. He’s played hard all day. I’ve worked equally as hard around the house. Honestly, I’m not sure what all he’s eaten today.
His day has consisted of cartoons, building fairy houses, painted nails, a robot salon, and chasing his best friend upstairs.
It’s bedtime. He blearily requests food. I grab a few leftover nuggets. He’s grateful. We are having a rather chill moment and all is right with our world.