Mary usually conks out in the car on the way home from school. Polishing silver can be quite exhausting. When we get home, I move her to her bed, snow pants and all.
I love the sounds she makes in my ear as she stirs in her sleep in my arms. I carry her down the hallway, and I hear little moans, squeaks, and breathy groans. Just the noises she would make when she was a tiny baby.
She is not so tiny.
But still my baby.
