I really ought to vacuum. I should. But the only thing I pick up off the floor is a baby clinging to my pants. Brushing the fur and sand off her legs, I hold her close enough to feel her heart beating. Listening to the words my son is singing, I realize that I actually do know a couple of things now that I didn’t know when I was younger, and I’m so glad I acted on them as I happily survey the pretty good remodel of my once-perfect home.
