Last night after dinner and bath time and ice cream time (while watching Bewitched), Evan and I left the house to pick up Daddy from an evening class. On the other nights we've done this, I have usually put Evan to bed at 8 and then at 8:30 I wrap a sleepy-headed little boy in a blanket and take him out to the car where he falls right back asleep. Last night he was wide awake. (Maybe because of the ice cream or maybe because we just had a late start to our evening routine since we stayed outside an hour after getting home.)
This little boy walked down the short sidewalk, turned around to scoot down the step backward, stood, and then looked up.
And smiled.
And as I picked him up to get him into the car I looked up, too. There were a few bright stars in the sky. Probably the first ones Evan had ever seen. There was a moment of awe as I viewed the heavens afresh, with the help of my little boy.
And I am reminded that I should look up more often.
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