Life and Death / Sunday, October 16

The thing about walking into one my best friend's house is the evidence of life. 

Usually, the first thing one notices is the decibel level.

With 5 year-old twins and an almost 12 month-old, it's generally pretty high.

And by that, it means it sounds like joy incarnate.

Truthfully, if things aren't loud, I worry. 

Her house oft tickles the olfactory glands as well.

Bread.

Muffins.

Roast.

Homemade somethin' or another.

It always smells like love.

But the thing that gets me every time, the thing that brings a smile to my face is the evidence of life in toys.

I once saw Gavin pull a plush, stuffed mouse out of a vase as though that's where everyone keeps their cute, fuzzy mice.

I've seen Nolan pushing that same toy mouse in a tractor. 

Everything is a toy. 

Nothing has rules about "how" they're supposed to be played with.

Those kids are allowed to explore.

To dream.

To imagine.

To live.

These guys?

Yeah.

They weren't so lucky.

But I bet that battle was EPIC.



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