small things #56 ... tangled
It's a quarter after two in the afternoon and the fan above our bed spins lazily. It just barely moves the still, warm air. Liddy and I are snuggled in bed - eyes drowsy and breathing deeply.
One chubby arm lays across my shoulder. A blue and red paint smudge still clings to her skin. One arm lies across her back, pulling her close.
One dimpled hand clutches the green chenille throw blanket between us. One hand is tucked under her back, still smelling of the warm vanilla lotion we put on before climbing into bed.
One set of knees folded up to her chin - ankles crossed and pudgy toes tucked under the blanket. One set of knees bent and snuggled around her balled-up form.
One forehead smooth and peaceful with dark and damp wisps of hair curled against her sleeping face. One forehead creased and furrowed - trying to cast off the worry and work that crawled into bed with me.
Who is who?
Who is helping who hold still enough to rest?
Who is helping who nap?
Tangled ... a heavenly knot of nappers on a Saturday afternoon.