It was one of those soft evenings where the breeze is warm and the sun sets in a way that makes the
clouds pink. I sat in my soccer mom chair at Bob's practice, thinking back on my day. It was a good one. A day of friends and writing and dog kisses and homework and piano and dishes and laundry and conversations with little boys. It was a very good, very regular day.
I watched the kids play and laugh and run. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. And I was happy.