I'm looking out my window at the rain. A rack of sweet potatoes drips and caramelize on the oven floor. The kitchen smells like smoky sugar. Andrew taps his Legos to the beat of the African drummers we heard at the library this morning. The baby's blue eyes twinkle as she attacks a teething ring with slobbery fervor.
Perhaps it's the Halloween candy talking, but I would not trade this life for anything.