Sisters

On the ride home from school today, an adorable little boy and his father boarded the bus and sat down by us.

Monkey perked up and said "hello Paul" immediately. The father and I shook hands and figured out that our kids were in class together, and as as our brief conversation faded away the two kids were giggling and chortling and playing a silly word game that - really - didn't make any sense to us. But they were having a blast.

They laughed and giggled and leaned into one another, resplendently unaware of how every single adult on the bus was watching them. When Paul and his father departed the bus, Monkey knelt on her seat to press her face to the glass and say goodbye over and over again. Meanwhile Paul was waving furiously at us as the bus drew past him. An elderly woman across from me caught my eye and smiled.

As Monkey settled down from the excitement of seeing her friend, she leaned in a bit closer to me. And Jellybean, nestled against me in her Ergo baby carrier, did something I have never seen her do before.

She leaned away from me, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against Monkey's back, snuggling against her sister. It was unbearably tender. Jellybean doesn't really "kiss" people - she shows affection by gently touching her forehead to you. It is a benediction, a moment of grace. And she's never done that to her older sister before. Until today, on the bus, as her sister's cheeks were flushed with excitement from frolicking with her friend.

I think these two are going to be great friends.

Sometimes, commuting is the best part of the day. (Sometimes)