I was complaining about the dishes. The sink is always full, the dishwasher never empty and those sippy cups? What a pain they are to dismantle. Tumbling cups and plastic bowls, they take up at least one shelf of every load.

Her face flashed a look of recognition as she remembered these days well. Trying to shake her head in understanding, her eyes told so much more.

She missed this.

A bulging sink, running the dishwasher twice a day, dinner with someone teetering on her lap. Piles of laundry waiting to be folded, someone tugging at her leg as she cooked, she wished it all back now. Her days of my life were long gone. All at college or married with their own children, filling up her dinner table for the occasional meal and then heading home.

Her house, quiet. Her sink, empty again.

I was unable to begin the next day without milk and juice and dish soap and my sleep-deprived, yoga pant-clad life but it looked perfect to her.

I stood a little taller in my husband's sweatshirt and barely made up face. Hugging my purchases I walked to a minivan full of car seats and smiled as I backed away to the sound of toddler toons.

A sink full of dishes was awaiting my return.

***

About the Author

Jessica Watson

Jessica Watson is a mom to five, four in her arms and one in her heart. She lives in Michigan where her life is as unpredictable as the weather. After the loss of her infant daughter in 2007, Jessica left the corporate world behind, vowed to soak up every living moment and found her writing roots again. You can find her wearing her heart on her sleeve at her personal blog or on twitter .

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