Noise

The noise . . . it carries me upstairs to my bedroom. The dogs are at my feet - trying to hide under my legs and looking up at me as if to say "Make is stop, Momma." Shrieking that sounds like a toddler version of a firetruck fills the house, and then nonstop belly roll giggles and screams and laughter - the kind I could listen to forever - the kind I hope to always hear. I find my munchkins and husband playing on our bed and hiding under the covers and getting tickled until their little faces look like they are about to explode from all the redness.





Good times, yes, definitely good times!