He agreed to ride with us to school this morning, a rare treat in our routine.
We returned home for him to collect his bag and bike. To spend his day somewhere else. Flopped half across the bed, with my legs dangling off the side I said "give me a kiss." So he leaned across for a moment or two. I laughed, saying he had purposely positioned himself so I couldn't hook him with my legs, trapping him there so he couldn't leave for work.
Chatting for a moment about the dog and texting, about homework and groceries in between pecks, I thought about the nice day before me. I thought about how some days pass us by before I realize that we barely had time to visit.
And I thought about how we really hadn't had the time for a visit this morning. But we did it anyway, like ignoring the tardy bell to pass a note in the hall. Sometimes you just have to ignore those rules to sneak in a kiss. Sometimes you need to forget expectations, ignore laundry and the hands of the clock. Sometimes you spend that extra five minutes talking when you should be driving away. Because those are the real gems.
The exceptions to the rule are almost always the sweetest moments. And I try to look for them all day long.
