It's a quarter to midnight and my day is finally wrapping up.
Two nights a week I get home close to ten. Bill is usually still up, basically just waiting for me to get home safely before crashing into bed himself.
I feel like I have missed the party.
Bill gives me highlights.
They walked to the park.
A funny moment. A silly expression.
What they ate.
How easy/hard it was to get Landon to bed.
I peek in on Landon and can't help but think how there is nothing sweeter than the way he looks.
Tonight, he is nestled into a blanket we put on the floor next to his bed.
I don't know if he started there, or fell there. I'm glad it's there either way because it has cut down on the midnight thumps and subsequent tears.
Five minutes with Bill.
A few minutes to gaze at Landon and give him a goodnight kiss.
They left this morning before I even woke up.
I come home long after, or shortly before they are asleep.
It feels strange to live with two people and miss them so keenly so much of the time.