It's been quiet for a few minutes. Too quiet. So quiet it raises my Mom hackles and urges me to go investigate. I tiptoe to the bedroom door, which the twins have shut. No whispers from within. Slowly, I open the door just a teensy crack.
Reid catches me. "Mom?!"
I don't respond, sneakily watching him and Cort tucked into Reid's bed, snuggled up side by side, surely whispering in that way that only twins can. I love that they have moments like these.
Reid says, "Mom?!? What are you doing?"
I open the door and yell "Rrraaaaarrrr! I'm the tickle monster!"
The twins scream and duck under the covers as I leap into bed with them, attacking with my tickle fingers. They both collapse into giggles, and when I stop to give them hugs they beg and beg me to become the tickle monster again.
Just one small moment in my day, but it makes the redundancy of daily winter life seem more like dancing in the rain.