Baked Turbo Flash

I feel like my kids like that I am always up puttering around. I am always there and available. At night, they can see the lamp of my office and hear me making a hullabaloo and clacking away at my desk as they lie tucked in their beds. They will often get up and come in with sleep in their eyes to ask me to tuck them back in. In the morning, when they climb out of bed they can hear my wife and me making coffee and chit-chatting or unloading the dishwasher. I remember lying in bed as a kid and hearing the grownups talking and laughing sitting around the table over the tinkling of spoons in coffee mugs. When I think back on it, many of my most prized memories are memories of a feeling, a mood. The feeling then was that I belonged in a family of people who had always been there and who would always be there. My own cast of characters. I knew when I padded out to them in my pajamas they would all turn to look and smile at me and someone would pull me onto their lap and hold me close.