a voice on the stairs. . .

Mama! (my needy boy. . .)

Mama!

Yes, Luke?

Come see, Mama! (and now I am having images of terror flashing through my mind of what little project he has completed upstairs. . .and hoping it has nothing to do with a crayon)

So I run up the steps (coffee cup in hand, of course). And find him at the top of the steps, smiling. Really, not a good sign.

Hi, mama.

Hi, Lukey.

Mama. Look at all dees snows. And he points to the window on the landing. Sitting down next to me at the top of the stairs.

Look at all dees snows.

It's beautiful, Lukey. And I smile. At my little boy who has an eye for nature. And beauty. That snow has stopped him in the middle of his busy play. And that he called to me to enjoy it with him. A beautiful Mama moment.

Here. Would you like me to carry you to the window so you can see? And he smiles.

And I pick him up, bringing his little boy happiness to the window. And we look outside together. Breathless.

Watch out for the poops. Yeah. I should have expected that one.