Relaxing Sunday morning.

All five of us gather in bed for post-wake-up lounging around 6:50 this morning. The fifth occupant being the cat. Although, in deference to chronology, if not seniority, Beatrice is really number three in our household.

Sun peeking through the blinds is gold,  happy. Soothing without the rush of schedule. Moment to breathe deeply a few times before our loose yet active day begins.

Still, five of us in bed is cozy. One person, he’s three years old, needs subtle guidance much of the time.

“Touch your sister’s hair, but not her eyes. Try petting kitty toward her tail. Yes, like that.”

More days should start like this. Free from the immediacy of the next thing. And the next.

That more days do not start like this can either serve as cause for concern or cause for celebration when the slow, relaxing mornings do come.

I choose the latter because life is good.

I choose the latter because just now the only thoughts threatening to distract me from this moment are When should we head to the swimming pool? When will we go to the park?

These are the best distractions. The best kind of early morning.