The house is a mess. The family room is covered with DJ’s toys, and if you look closely you’ll find discarded cheerios on the carpet. I keep picking up sweet potato puffs from under the kitchen table and the fridge is full of food that hasn’t been used to make anything of substance in nearly a week.
All three of us have been down and out with awful colds all week (DJ’s first cold, ever), so everything unrelated to sleep, hydrating and attempting to diminish our respective miseries, has gone by the wayside.
But you know what? Screw the mess. It’s home. A family lives here.
And that is oddly comforting.