You know the days when they come, days that stand out from others not because they’ve been set aside as holidays but because they have not. They’re naturally delicious from beginning to end with no agenda other than spending time with the people you love. 

I just had one of those days. Apart from an hour or two in the morning when I finished up work tasks from yesterday, there was nothing on the calendar but a quick trip to the store. Otherwise, it was a block of time reserved for hanging out and staying in. 

By 11 a.m. the babies and their mamas arrived to spend time with their aunt and sister.  It was loud and chaotic, with gurgles and shrieks from the infants and laughter and conversation from the adults I still call “the girls.” 

Copper, revved by the unaccustomed activity, patrolled the gathering like a shark in the water, looking for plump infant toes to nibble. We managed to contain him, but barely.

Now it’s evening. The babies are at home in bed, their parents are pooped, and we … are just marveling at it all. 

(“Sock letters” welcoming Celia home.)