At Home

I got there when I got there – somehow, I can never arrive too early or too late at my friend’s house. A tousled blonde head peeping around the open door welcomed me in, while a lisping voice wanted me to explain why the kitties can’t come in the house. Little Miss thinks I know everything. It’s kind of flattering, really.

I step inside, slip off my sandals and scoop up the baby, who stares at me intently with his riveting big blue eyes, as I call hello to my still invisible friend.

“O...