I was already awake when John had a bloody nose last night. He found me at my desk (a bad habit of mine).
We weren’t scared, because this happens sometimes. He sat on my lap for a while, head back and with a tissue held tight. He told me some things he had liked about the day, and I told him the same. The breeze coming through the open window was cool.
When he had on a clean white t-shirt and was ready for bed again, I stretched out with him in his room. He curled up close. It took us both a little while to sleep but it was quiet.
Is it possible that the best part of my day happened at 3 in the morning?