One to many times I recall sitting at dinner in my cute little house with my cute little husband and cute little kids for supper.
No, that’s not the part that I recall with angst.

It’s the sight we saw out our window as we ate.

The sight of little girls sneaking across the corn fields between my house and theirs.

running away

They would make a game of it. And we would play along. We would pretend not to see them. We would let them sneak up on the house. In the house. And ignore them as much as possible.

So we could say…”no, I haven’t seen them yet. Yes, I’m sure they are on there way here. Yes, we will tell them to come home.”

Knowing that the brief game was their way of coping with the crazies they were heading back to.
And knowing that soon we would have to intervene.

But for that moment…it was just a game.