“Do you like my new dress, Mommy?” she asked, turning to wander down the hall.
A few minutes later, there was an uproar. Poking my head out of the bedroom I heard the sound of my daughters’ laughter and racing footsteps coming from the living room.
Curious, I walked toward them. They appeared at the end of the hall. They were both wearing the sweater. Both their heads peaked up from the neckline and each had an arm stuffed into one shoulder. Their other arms were wrapped around each other.
They scurried toward me, hooting and cackling. Someone snorted. (::Wondering from whom they got that trait? Whistling and looking at ceiling:::).
Their giggles were raw and pure and genuine.
Full of life.
They tumbled toward me with laughter that emanated from the tips of their toes, growing in strength and sound as it rolled up through their bellies and thundered out their throats.
Their faces beamed with the happiness of a thousand brides on their wedding day. The hall was filled with total, utter, complete joy. Their joy.
I shall never forget it.