Time.

I had the house to myself. I decided to do a little meditating—indulge in quiet contemplation, if you will—before Alli came home from school and disrupted the stillness, so I lay back on my bed enjoying the view of the small patch of grayish blue sky I could see while staring through the slightly parted curtains of my bedroom window. It was soothing feeling the soft down duvet under me, and the smooth expanse of well-worn cotton against the palms of my hands while my thoughts were drawn upwards and out. Unfortunately, my thoughts never will stay elevated for any great length of time, and soon I lost myself in smug contemplation of my developing Guitar Hero skills and wondered if I ought to try out a new song before any of the kids came home. Frustrated, I closed my eyes, which I usually find particularly helpful in shutting out the inane. Peace. Gradually, however, my thoughts slipped into imagining what I would buy if I won the lottery—not that it mattered as I never play. I bought TGIM that American Stratocaster he’s been eyeing—after buying myself a snug little six-bedroom cottage with a large wraparound porch, naturally—and had almost settled on the widescreen LCD television for our bedroom…

I opened my eyes. The clock across the bedroom stared at me with silent condemnation: “Look at the time you wasted! LOOK!” It was time to join the line of parents at the elementary school Kiss and Ride. One second I was redecorating my newly purchased lottery home, spacious yet somehow tiny enough to feel safe and snug, much like a cathedral at the holidays; the next instant I was looking at my own little bedroom, small yet somehow big enough to hold all five of us on the bed, eating popcorn and watching cartoons.

Smiling ruefully, I rolled myself off the bed, cast one last wistful glance out the window, and went in search of my keys.

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